Herwald von Einzbern and the Chamber of Secrets
by kyugan
Summary: Herwald returns for his 2nd year of Magical Education. And all he has to deal with is centuries of prejudice, an incompetent DADA professor, an overeager House Elf and an ancient monster that's awoken hungry from it's 50 year slumber. No worries, right?
1. Chapter 1 Meeting of the Minds

Happy Mother's day, to all you Mutha's out there.

Scout: Oh I see what you did there!

Heavy: HA! is funny to me!

Kyugan: Heh, yeah I'm awesome. Bet you weren't expecting this out so soon were you? Well to be honest, neither was I.

Spy: Gentlemen, if you'd be so kind as to hurry up?

Kyugan: Alright already! (Sighs) Bloody Prussian Prick...in any case, the Wheel of Fate is turning, let's see what the shift to the continuum has wrought!

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><p><span>Chapter 1: Meeting of the Minds.<span>

Jubstacheit von Einzbern was not, by reputation, a particularly pleasant man to be around, even on his better days. Even his own family members walked a thin line when it came to incurring his wrath, the punishment for which usually involved something horrible, inhumane, and unique in that it was the brainchild of Jubstacheit's devious mind.

It was once said that an irritated Einzbern was a dangerous Einzbern, such words were an UNDERSTATEMENT where Jubstacheit was concerned, and the denizens of the castle lived in fear of what might set his temper off.

It had happened twice now in the past Eleven years, what with Kiritsugu Emiya's betrayal and destruction of the Holy Grail during the 4th Heaven's Feel. Jubstacheit had responded by poisoning the man's own daughter, Illyasviel, against him, intending to use her as a means of not only taking revenge, but as the vessel for the next Holy Grail, which as a result of whatever destroyed the 4th Heaven's Feel, would occur ten years early.

Unfortunately, once again his plans had turned for naught, as Kiritsugu's sons, both adopted, one of which was raised as a weapon on Jubstacheit's orders, foiled his plans and supposedly destroyed the Grail for good, though Jubstacheit knew better.

After all, the Grail itself had no physical form, it was a spiritual entity, the embodiment of the 3rd True Magic, capable of bestowing those that laid claim to it ANY wish they desired, on par with a miracle. So what if the brats had 'destroyed' it? All that meant was that it would take a little longer for it to reform, by which time the Einzberns would have made their preparations, as the Tohsaka and Makiri no doubt believed the War was, at last, finally over, which meant they wouldn't be as on guard when the time arrived.

Though this didn't stop him from rubbing Kiritsugu's redheaded stepchild's nose in the fact there was NOTHING the boy could do to save Illyasviel from her fate. It'd take an act of God to save the little homunculi's life, and ironically, the boy had helped 'destroy' the only thing that could've done so.

However, his thoughts were not, at that moment, on Kiritsugu's adopted brat, or rather, not the brat everyone normally associated with the late Magus Killer, but on the OTHER boy, the boy that had, over the last year, grown more and more interesting.

When Kiritsugu had first brought Harry James Potter back with him from England, Herwald had simply stared at the little bundle of flesh and blankets in cold contemplation, unable to accept the fact the boy had apparently finished off Voldemort by bouncing the Dark Lord's Killing Curse back at him.

Naturally, Jubstacheit didn't fear Voldemort, if anything, the old man's presence was one of the reasons the little Schwein-Hund hadn't set foot on mainland Europe, instead regulating his activities to the United Kingdom. The fact the supposed 'Greatest Dark Lord in History' had been offed by a babe in arms, not even a year old, disgusted the aged Magi.

However, whether the tale was true or not, Jubstacheit had a nose for potential, it was one of the reasons he'd readily agreed to Kiritsugu's marriage to Irisviel, the reason he'd allowed the homunculi to carry Illyasviel to term instead of demanding she develop her outside the womb, and that very nose was telling him that, other than needing a change of diaper after the portkey back to Germany, the boy before him was an uncut gem, waiting for a master to shape it.

So he'd taken the boy in, fed him, clothed him, and at his request, trained him to become part of Illyasviel's 'Shield and Sword', the other being the Berserker Heracles.

And the boy had excelled, passing every test placed before him, surviving the intense, gruelling agony of having a transmutation array GRAFTED into his body, without anaesthesia, even managing to summon an Assassin class servant when ordered, only to fail, in Jubstacheit's eyes, at the last hurdle, allowing, even AIDING, in the Grail's destruction.

Admittedly, this wasn't entirely fair, as the boy had been up against GILGAMESH, the King of Heroes himself, an Epic Hero of a calibre so great he could assume ALL Classes, save Assassin, for obvious reasons, though his knowledge as a Caster would be limited to whatever magical artefacts he possessed within his Gate of Babylon, and his knowledge of the Unified Language, being the King of Ancient Babylon itself.

It was only this, and his confidence that the NEXT war would happen without Tohsaka or Makiri interference that kept him from going over to Japan to personally throttle the little bastards for their failure and interference. Well, that and the fact the younger boy was proving to be very, VERY interesting.

When the boy had received his Hogwarts letter, his late parents having apparently followed tradition and registered him at their old Alma Matter, Jubstacheit had grudgingly given his blessing, though he'd refused to fund the boy's studies. The reason for this was quite simply, as much as he hated Kiritsugu's sons, he LOATHED the Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and wanted nothing more than to watch the twinkle-eyed bastard fall from his high horse, preferably breaking his nose for a third time.

Ironically enough, the reason for his current bad mood was because the Twinkle-eyed Schwein-Hund had owled him, of all the NERVE, to let him know he'd be stopping by later today to speak with him regarding the boy's 'safety'.

'Typical of the old twinkler…' he muttered, scowling even as he sat at his desk, going over the monthly review of his family's numerous distilleries, 'Just assumes I'll open the bloody door for him, as if past experience has taught him nothing.'

Albus Dumbledore and Jubstacheit von Einzbern had not stood face-to-face since the defeat of Grindlewald, where Jubstacheit had broken the other man's nose for the second time before marching off to get on with his life. The two were simply the kind that rubbed one another the wrong way, though they respected one another, grudgingly in Jubstacheit's case, in regards to their power, Magical and otherwise.

That wouldn't stop Jubstacheit from trying to break the old twinkler's nose though, no sir, he had STANDARDS to keep up after all.

"Hard at work I see." A familiar, hated voice noted in amusement, Jubstacheit turning, slowly, to glance at his fireplace, more accurately, at the twinkling blue eyes, set in a wrinkled face lined with silver hair and beard that was hovering in the flames "You never change, Jubstacheit."

"Though it seems YOU have learned from past experiences, Dumbledore." Jubstacheit muttered, suppressing the urge to growl at the man's resourcefulness, and making a mental note to have the damned fireplaces warded against outside communications in future, only to quirk a brow at the sight of the old meddler's nose, which looked more crooked than he last recalled "Or have you? Run into a door did we?"

"Something along those lines…" Dumbledore admitted, looking bemused, of all things, as he looked up at Jubstacheit from the flames "I made the mistake of startling Young Harry when he woke up in the infirmary…the boy has his mother's right straight to be certain."

"The BOY broke your nose?" Jubstacheit repeated, the head of the illustrious Einzbern family's tone incredulous, though on the inside his estimation of his so-called 'failed' weapon had just gone up tremendously.

"No harm done; I was in the wrong for startling him like that." Dumbledore assured the man, his tone genial and dismissive "Boys will be boys after all, and I think he might have fixed some of the damage you did last time."

"I doubt that very much." Jubstacheit muttered smugly. The Lord of Einzbern prided himself on his physique, which hadn't diminished much in his old age, and so highly doubted a blow from a half-dead brat, albeit one he'd trained to be a weapon, could come CLOSE to the damage he'd visited on the twinkle-eyed bastard's schnozz "Now what do you want Dumbledore, as you noted, I am very, VERY busy."

"It's about young Harry." Dumbledore began, his tone genial, though the twinkle was gone in his eyes, allowing Jubstacheit to see the man as he both detested and respected "More accurately, it's about his safety."

"You believe I would harm a boy under my care, Dumbledore?" Jubstacheit demanded, the Einzbern head's tone mocking as he eyed the Supreme Mugwump and Headmaster of Hogwarts with a look of mock surprise "You wound me."

"Jubstacheit if you insist on playing games with me I am going to get very annoyed." Dumbledore warned, and Jubstacheit noted that the man was SERIOUS, his blue eyes possessing an almost ice-like quality "I KNOW about those arrays you grafted onto his body. How could you do that to a boy?"

"Be careful, Dumbledore." Jubstacheit warned, his smile vanishing as he let a bit of his power into his voice as he spoke "I am not a member of your staff, nor am I one of your students. Tread lightly before you accuse me of anything."

The two old rivals glared at one another in silence, so intensely that anything that crossed their vision might have been instantly set ablaze. "I did not have a hand in the boy's Arrays." Jubstacheit spoke after a moment's silence "I knew of them, true, but the operation itself was carried out by someone else. All I had a hand in was training the boy in alchemy and combat."

"You turned him into a WEAPON." Dumbledore concluded, his tone accusing, his blue eyes smouldering with barely restrained anger as he cntinued to glare at Jubstacheit from the fireplace "You turned a boy into a weapon for your own selfish purposes."

"Is that any different from what you and your precious ministry have planned for him?" Jubstacheit demanded, snorting at Dumbledore's look of anger "Get off your high-pedestal twinkler, we BOTH know that sooner or later that Dummkopf Fudge will try to use the boy to his advantage, never mind whatever schemes YOU have planned for him." He scowled at the man "And don't you DARE try to deny it. I, at least, am honest in my reasoning. The boy was a weapon, true, but I made sure he KNEW that was what I was training him for. Not once did I deceive him by claiming it was for some asinine 'Greater Good'."

Dumbledore scowled, only to sigh, his features seeming to grow older as he shook his bearded head "I admit, I was not there for Harry." He muttered, looking downcast "Were it not for the need to keep him safe, I would never have entrusted him to those…people…" he looked at the Einzbern elder, and there was resolve in those blue eyes "What's done is done, as much as I regret it, but I will NOT fail the boy again, even if it means clashing with you."

"I am always open to a challenge, Dumbledore." Jubstacheit countered, a part of him shivering with the thrill of facing his old rival in combat once more. As much as he hated him, there were few people that could give Jubstacheit a run for his money, and Dumbledore, when he wasn't playing the fool, was one of them "But if you're planning to challenge me for the boy, I should warn you he's not here."

"What?" Dumbledore exclaimed, looking stunned at the revelation, his eyes wide and his face paling beneath his silvery beard "Where is he? How could you let him wander?"

"Keep your beard on twinkler." Jubstacheit snorted, smirking coldly at the sight of his old rival having a panic attack "The boy is safe, safer than he'd ever be with that lot you intended to send him to over the summer." He frowned disapprovingly "Really Dumbledore, could you have PICKED a worse hiding place? Even if the woman WAS his mother's sister, it's quite obvious she's so embittered over being left out of attending your little prep school she'd do ANYTHING to spite her memory."

"A trend that is turning out to be regrettable in Muggle-born families of late." Dumbledore admitted, sighing sadly as he shook his aged head. Back in the day, it was considered a privilege for a Magus to be born into a family of Mundanes, then the Witch Hunts began, instigated by the Vatican, and things had all gone to hell until a truce was reached centuries later, the statute of secrecy acting as a buffer between the magical and Mundane world "So where Is young Harry."

"With his family." Jubstacheit replied, the Lord of Einzbern smirking as he turned his back on the understandably confused Dumbledore "Now if you don't mind Dumbledore, I am, as you correctly surmised, VERY busy."

And with that he snapped his fingers, the fireplace cutting off Dumbledore before the man could demand to know where the boy-who-lived-to-surprise had disappeared, the old man resolving to avoid lighting it until he was CERTAIN nobody was about to start peering in at him from the outside.

'The boy's almost as much of a trouble maker I was as a boy…' the Einzbern master noted wryly, shaking his head in bemusement 'Perhaps I should hold off removing him from the list of succession.'

After all, anyone that could bring Jubstacheit THIS much entertainment, was someone worth keeping around, if only to throttle later.

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere in the south of france...<em>

"Are you alright, Herwald?" a kind voiced asked, the boy in question having sneezed suddenly, almost dropping the books he was sorting with her.

"I'm fine, Mrs Flamel." Herwald assured the woman, the adopted Einzbern rubbing his nose carefully with a handkerchief, balancing the precious, first-edition tomes against the shelf as he did so "Just inhaled a little dust…"

"I always tell Nicholas to clean up in here…" Perenelle muttered, the Sorceress shaking her head of chestnut hair with a good-natured sigh as she eyed the space around them "Honestly, the man's so helpless sometimes it blows my mind."

"I'm right here you know." Nicholas called out, The Alchemist looking decidedly hurt by his wife's statement, something that didn't seem to suit his deceptively stern features.

"I only speak the truth, Cheri." Perenelle countered, her tone teasing as she shook the business end of a feather duster at her husband "Honestly, it's bad enough I have to clean up after you, I shudder to think what will happen if Herwald picks up your bad habits."

"I'm not that bad." The Alchemist countered, though he had the decency to chuckle as he eyed the dusty, wind-swept chamber that was supposed to be his study "Well…as bad as I used to be…"

Herwald chuckled, averting his eyes from his Master's look of betrayal as he returned to the task at hand, namely replacing the numerous priceless tomes The Alchemist had collected over the course of his long life.

Ever since the events of last year, things had taken a notable change for the adopted Einzbern, the most obvious being his apprenticeship to Nicholas Flamel, The Alchemist himself, after the man had used his legendary Philosopher's Stone to not only heal the damage done to the boy's circuits by the destruction and subsequent assimilation of the false stone, but to set whatever had been done to Illyasviel right.

Admittedly, Flamel's reasons for offering to teach him had been more out of interest in his abilities, and a desire to ensure he didn't end up like Grandfather Jubstacheit, but after the man had saved his beloved sister, Herwald would have followed the Alchemist to Hell itself and back, and so hadn't hesitated when offered the chance to spend most of his summer learning Alchemy under the man at his current residence in a small village in Southern France.

This was why he was currently helping the Flamels as they finally got around to sorting out Nicholas' old study, which he apparently hadn't used for quite some time, not since the creation of the Stone to be precise. As a result, it had quickly degenerated into a store-room for any old, interesting books the man came across, and considering he was one of the oldest bibliophile's alive, that was a lot of books.

"Oh, by the way." Nicholas recalled, The Alchemist looking up at his apprentice as he spoke "I spoke with Miss Sakura earlier."

Unlike most Magi, Nicholas Flamel was surprisingly modern in his outlook. While his clothing style was a little dated, this was more out of preference, as he simply didn't feel comfortable in anything other than his usual shirts and casual slacks. Other than that, his house, a good-sized, renovated cottage on the outskirts of town, was furnished with electricity and indoor plumbing, all the modern trappings you'd expect in a Mundane household, including cable television, Perenelle had a weakness for soap operas apparently, and wireless internet.

It was actually rather embarrassing, really, to be taught about the internet by man who had been born CENTURIES before electricity was harnessed by man outside of mage craft, but Herwald had to admit, it was a lesson he was glad to have learned, though he didn't relish the idea of having to explain it to Shirou, Rin and Sakura when he got back.

Now admittedly, due to his upbringing, Shirou wasn't so bad, hell the redhead knew more about machines than any magus had right to, but Rin and Sakura had been brought up as Magi from birth, and so their mastery of technology was limited to basic household appliances, they didn't even have cell phones.

"It would seem that Shirou and Rin are apparently too busy catching up on his education to pick you up." The Alchemist revealed, sounding apologetic "However, she assured me that Rider and your sister should be free to collect you when we go to Diagon Alley to collect your things for this year."

Herwald smiled at that, a sudden feeling of warmth rushing through him at the idea of being able to see Illyasviel after so long. True, it had only been a few months since he'd last seen her, Flamel having waited for her to recover from her treatment before taking Herwald away for training, but that didn't change the fact he'd spent the better part of a year away from his beloved sister.

"I think we can finish this later." Perenelle noted, smiling at the look on the boy's face as she took the books from him, her hands soft, yet firm "Why don't you go wash up before Dinner?

Herwald nodded, thanking The Sorceress in her maiden French, offering a polite bow to Flamel before turning and marching up the stairs to the guestroom, intent on scrubbing himself clear of all the dust and grime that had accumulated on him since that morning, he swore his hair had turned gray from the dust as he passed by a mirror in the hallway, idly hoping Perenelle wouldn't mind him borrowing some of her shampoo to get the job done.

He was in such a hurry to ready his things for a nice, steaming shower, that he almost didn't notice the creature sitting on his bed until he was halfway between the door and the closet, but when he did he barely managed to refrain from lashing out with Alchemy, as Perenelle had made it CLEAR there was to be no transmutation within the house, a rule even Nicholas didn't dare contend.

It was clearly a House Elf now that he got a better look at it, Herwald had encountered several at the Einzbern Castle over the years, and was on good terms with all of them. But this was clearly no Einzbern Elf, which were hearty, stocky creatures that wore an official uniform depending on their gender, butler suits for the males, maid uniforms for the females, each emblazoned with the Einzbern crest. The creature before him was thin, almost painfully so, his large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes set in a face that had hardly any flesh on its bones. Coupled with its stooping posture and the fact it as wearing what appeared to be an old pillowcase, with rips for arm holes, this elf was either a stray whose masters had passed, or an unfortunate whose masters treated it no better than a slave.

"Harry Potter!" the creature squeaked, causing Herwald to twitch, both from its high-pitched voice and the use of his old name, the creature slipping off the bed and bowing to him, so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir… Such an honour it is…"

"Please get up." Herald asked firmly, knowing better than to coddle the creature, judging by its current state, it was likely to burst into tears if he did. He didn't bother asking HOW the elf came to be in my room, knowing from experience, and several conversations with the Head Elf of Castle Einzbern, that there was VERY little that could keep a House Elf from going where they pleased, save their master's orders.

Despite their appearance, House Elves were VERY powerful, enough that they were more than a match for any minor Magi that crossed them. The Elves of Castle Einzbern actually doubled as the Castle's security detail, as there were more of them than there were Homunculi.

"Dobby was it?" the adopted Einzbern asked, once the creature had scrambled back onto its feet, fidgeting with the end of its pillowcase even was it nodded "Might I ask what you're doing in my room? Not that I mind, but you're taking a tremendous risk just being here."

This was no idle threat, for Perenelle Flamel prided herself on her barriers, and had spent the better part of her lifetime, those not spent simply enjoying life with her husband, developing numerous wards to throw over their homes, making them unplotable, undetectable, and above all, IMPOSSIBLE to enter without alerting her to their presence, and as Nicholas was quick to admit, there were few things Perenelle hated than 'uninvited guests'.

The very fact Dobby had even managed to ENTER the Flamel's home, let alone undetected, spoke for itself how powerful the little elf was, even as it fidgeted uncomfortably. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir…" it began earnestly, trailing off as a pained look crossed it's thin, painfully so, features "it is difficult, sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…"

"The beginning usually helps." Herwald noted, only to regret it instantly as the elf blinked up at him in confusion "Never mind," he countered, gesturing to the bed "please, have a seat."

Dobby blinked once, twice, and then to Herwald's shock, promptly burst into tears "S-sit down!" he wailed, his face in his hands "Never… never ever…Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard — like an equal —"

'Just what kind of bastards is he working for?' Herwald growled, keeping his features calm as he escorted the sobbing elf to the bed, shutting the bedroom door behind him while the elf tried to get control of himself, turning round to find Dobby gazing at him, his bony features lined with an expression of watery adoration "Did your master send you?" he asked, wanting to get the measure of the Elf's family.

"Oh, no, sir, no…" Dobby countered, the elf shivering at the words as he wrung his hands "Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir-!"

"I don't think you need to go THAT far." Herwald countered, alarmed at how casually the little elf spoke of mutilating itself, as if it had been raised to do so on command "Besides, won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dobby doubts it, sir." The elf countered with a weak smile "Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir." He shivered again "Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments…"

* * *

><p><em>Herwald's POV...<em>

Herald bit his lip to keep from snarling, the adopted Einzbern struggling to keep his temper from raging out of control and scaring the elf, but it was a DAMN near thing.

Even the Einzberns, who were notorious for being a DARK family of Magi, would never have resorted to such unfair treatment. Certainly, failure was not tolerated within their walls, and the heirs to Jubstacheit's throne were perpetually trying to off one another, but there was a certain code of conduct reserved for valued servants and children, namely that they were not to be harmed in any way, lest the offending party bring the wrath of the entire family down on their head.

House elves were diligent workers that did as commanded WITHOUT demanding pay, and took up less maintenance than Homunculi. As a result, they were valued almost as highly, so highly that the last time a guest had injured one, they had disappeared without a trace.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Dobby." He spoke at last, his tone low and controlled, but polite as he looked the little elf in the eyes "And thank you, I understand how risky this is for you." He looked the elf sternly in the eyes "Now, you said you had something to tell me?"

"Ah, sir," Dobby sniffed, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing, a concerned look on his face "Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later…" he shivered at the memory, before looking the adopted Einzbern in the eyes insistently "Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."

Herwald blinked, staring at the little Elf in surprise. Of all the things he'd been expecting it to come out with, he CERTAINLY hadn't been expecting THAT. "Is there a reason for this, Dobby?" he asked slowly, trying to feel out the waters "You said your master didn't know you were here, so I assume you're not delivering this message on his orders?"

"No sir, Harry Potter sir." Dobby countered, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped "Master is not telling Dobby to warn Harry Potter, Dobby is taking it upon himself to tell Harry Potter he must stay where he is safe." The little elf looked up at the boy reverently "He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why am I not surprised…" Herwald muttered, rubbing his brow in exasperation, cursing the late James and Lily Potter for enrolling him at the death trap that was their precious Alma Matter.

Not that there was anything wrong with Hogwarts' Curriculum, it WAS after all, the premiere Wizarding school in Britain and most of Europe. The problem was the place as so steeped in tradition he had little doubt even Muggle-Born students came back for the holidays feeling out of touch with the times. Factor in the inter-house rivalries, particularly the hatred between the Gryffindors and Slytherins, and the fact the headmaster had allowed FOUR dangerous things into Hogwarts, including the shade of a supposedly departed Dark Lord, and you could understand the boy's exasperation.

"There is a plot, Harry Potter." Dobb whispered, taking the boy's silence as a sign to elaborate "A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year." He shivered, gripping his bony arms as if caught in a blizzard "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

"Should I assume you cannot tell me SPECIFICALLY what these terrible things are?" Herwald asked, half expecting the ear-flapping shake the elf gave him "I understand. But can you tell me this: Does this have anything to do with Volde-" he paused at the elf's tensing, recalling with a scowl that most of the British Wizarding world were too scared of the not-so-departed Dark Lord to even speak his name for fear he might still be around, a valid fear it seemed "Sorry, You-Know-Who? Just nod or shake your head." he sighed in relief as Dobby slowly shook his head "Not HIM then, someone associated with him then? One of those…what were they called, 'Death Eaters'? Just shake or node again."

This time, Dobb slowly nodded his head, but kept silent, though his wide eyes widened even further as he stared at Herwald, as if trying to give him a hint while at the same time stopping himself from doing so.

"So, one of his supporters that managed to avoid the hangman's noose then." Herwald muttered, looking decidedly grim, as the only Death Eaters that had gotten off on pardon were those who'd been controlled via the Imperius curse, and those with deep pockets of Pureblood Ancestry. And judging by Dobby's shoddy appearance and actions, it was clear his enigmatic 'master' was one of the latters "Still, not that I don't appreciate this Dobby, but why come to me at all? If there's a threat, why not alert Dumbledore?"

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had, Dobby knows it, sir." The elf supplied, bowing low again "Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength." His voice dropped to an urgent whisper "But, sir there are powers Dumbledore doesn't… powers no decent wizard…"

Herwald, realizing what was about to happen, lashed out like a viper and grabbed the elf by the back of its pillowcase, keeping it from beaning itself in the head with his desk lamp "None of THAT!" he snapped, his tone commanding "There is no need to punish yourself for speaking the truth. Even if you master IS a member of a Great, Noble Family, if they're involved in some shady dealings, it is NOT your duty to punish yourself for knowing it."

"Harry Potter is as kind as stories say…" Dobby whimpered, tears pouring from its eyes once more as it relaxed, taking his words to heart "Kind and brave and strong." He gripped the front of the boy' shirt desperately "But Harry Potter must promise he will not return to Hogwarts! Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!"

Herwald stared down at the elf, peering into its tennis-ball sized eyes, his own emerald orbs unreadable as he mulled over the information he'd been given. "Alright." He offered, gently peeling the elf off his shirt before it's bony hands ripped it "I won't go back."

"You is promising?" Dobby asked, looking up at the boy in relief "Harry Potter is promising to not go to Hogwarts this year?"

"Harry Potter won't go to Hogwarts this Year." Herwald affirmed, patting the little elf on the head with a reassuring smile "Now go on, it's not safe for you to be here, and your master is probably looking for you."

"Master is not summoning Dobby yet." Dobby assured the boy, his tone relieved, though whether it was because of the promise of his master's absence was debatable "But Dobby is doing as Harry Potter says. Be safe, Harry Potter."

"And don't go punishing yourself for warning me." Herwald ordered, his tone brooking no argument as he held the elf's gaze "After all, you DIDN'T come here, and you CERTAINLY didn't tell me anything."

* * *

><p><em>Herwald's room...<em>

Dobby's blinked, confusion in his eyes, only for them to fill with tears of gratitude as he bowed to the boy once again, before vanishing with a sharp crack, leaving Herwald alone in his room.

"You can come in now." He called out, the door opening to reveal the concerned Flamels, Nicholas crossing the room to check on his apprentice, while Perenelle frowned at the spot the elf had vacated, miffed he'd slipped past the wards, but not unduly so, as elves WERE notoriously powerful when it came to magic "Were you listening long?"

"From the moment he started singing you praises." Nicholas admitted, The Alchemist's tone amused, though his golden eyes were lined with concern as he peered into Herwald's emerald pair "What will you do?"

"First I think I'll write an anonymous letter to Dumbledore." Herwald muttered, the adopted Einzbern sighing in exasperation at the idea of contacting the Twinkler "I'd rather not have to clean up after the old twinkler again."

"So I assume you'll be returning to Hogwarts after all?" Perenelle asked, The Sorceress turning to look at her husband's latest apprentice, her brown eyes softening with concern, even as she glanced at the spot Dobby had resently vacated "What about the elf?"

"It wasn't a binding contract." Herwald assured the woman "And besides, I wasn't lying, Harry Potter WON'T be going to Hogwarts this year." He smiled at the Prussian woman "I never said anything about Herwald von Einzbern."

"That is true…" Nicholas chuckled, The Alchemist patting his apprentice on the shoulder even as Perenelle chuckled at the twelve-year-old's cunning "Now hurry off to the shower," he ordered "and try to save me some hot water."

"He really is a lot like Jubstacheit was when he was a boy." Perenelle noted once Herwald was out of earshot, a smile on her face even as her eyes shone with concern "Back before he took on the mantle of Lord Einzbern."

"He certainly possesses Jubstacheit's cunning." Nicholas agreed, and his smile too was tinged with a hint of regret that shone in his golden eyes "But do not worry Cheri, while he is ambitious, it is not for his sake. That is what makes him different…what makes him Herwald."

"Love." Perenelle sighed, and her features settled into an almost matronly smile despite her appearing no older than her mid-twenties "It is truly the greatest of all Magics."

Nicholas nodded, the Flamels sharing a brief hug before The Alchemist walked out of the room, leaving his wife to clean up, or at least pretend to, as Herwald was very neat, The Sorceress smiling to herself as she smoothed the sheets of the boy she'd come to see as her son in all but blood.

* * *

><p>And I believe that'll do for an opening chapter, no?<p>

Spy: As always, Monsieur, you deliver.

Kyugan: Don't I just?

Sniper: I don't see why you didn't let me shoot the little wanker, it'd save a lot of trouble later.

Heavy: NO! *Sends Sniper Flying with POW of doom) No hurting little baby man!

Kyugan: Easy there big guy. In any case, This is the first chapter of the Sequal, hope you liked it.

Spy: Flames will be countered by Piro...so please...take care.

Piro: HMHMHMHMHMHMHMHM!


	2. Chapter 2 Flourish and Blotts

Special update chapter for my little sis, happy 21st!

Spy: So she is legal, nez pas?

Kyugan: You get within a CONTINENT of her and I'll feed you to Heavy.

Heavy: *offscreen* I eat your spy!

Bspy: AAAAUUUUGH-!

Spy: I retract my previous question.

Kyugan: You better. Now then, the Wheel of Fate is turning, let's see what the shift to the continuum has wrought!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 2: Flourish and Blotts.<span>

A week had passed since the encounter with the enigmatic Dobby, during which time Perenelle had adjusted the wards, it was a matter of pride really, and Nicholas had managed to turn the Study into an even BIGGER mess than when they'd started. Naturally, none of them spoke of Hogwarts, nor Herwald's plans to return that year, Nicholas even going so far as to ask if the boy was 'certain' about his decision, just in case the elf was listening in, you never knew with House Elves.

It was Harry's birthday, and the Perenelle had cooked up an impressive breakfast for the occasion, since it had been agreed Herwald was to spend the rest of the summer with his family, who were doubtless already making party preparations, to which the Flamels were most certainly invited.

Herwald was just digging into his porridge with fresh cream when Perenelle returned with the post, holding out a familiar Hogwarts letter to Herwald, who accepted it, knowing that she would have already removed any tracking spells placed on it. The letter's contents were surprisingly very similar to the acceptance letter he'd received a year ago, informing him to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross station on September first. There was also a list of the new books he'd need for the coming year, though he found it rather strange that, with the exception of 'The Standard Book of Spells-Grade 2', most of the books for this year were by the same author.

"Qui l'enfer est Gilderoy Lockhart?" he asked, turning to Nicholas, even as Perenelle levelled a mild frown at him for his language "He must be pretty important if the entire booklist is composed of his works."

"I can't say I've ever heard of him." Nicholas admitted, the Alchemist shaking his blonde head with a mild frown, "Though I'm certain he must be quite skilled if his books made the list for recommended material…perhaps I'll purchase a few copies myself when we're in town."

Herwald said nothing, deciding that it may prove better to peruse the material before wasting Galleons on it. Not that the Flamels were hurting for Gold, Heaven forbid, but they'd made it clear they were buying his school books this year as birthday presents, and he didn't want them wasting their money if it turned out this Lockhart fellow had written a load of crock, he'd sooner waste his own gold, his parents having set up a trust fund for him at Gringotts in London, a small fortune intended to handle his student finances until he officially came of age. True, as heir to House Potter, he could wave this edict aside and claim ALL the Gold in the Potter vaults, as well as the two other Vaults assigned to him by blood, but he preferred to be thrift with his purchasing, and so limited himself to the late Potters' wills.

* * *

><p><em>After breakfast...<em>

After a quick wash-up they pulled on their coats and piled into Nicholas' car; a perfectly maintained 1963 Bentley S2 Continental Flying Spur, Perenelle setting a picnic basket on the seat next to Herwald before they took off towards the nearby City ofTours, where the closest Gringotts Branch was. From there, it was a simple matter of parking the car in the special, thief-proof parking lot, guarded by Goblins carrying semi-automatic weapons no less, and arranging for a portkey to the Branch inLondon.

Once there, the adopted Einzbern begged off escorting the Flamels around London, wanting to stop by his vault for a little 'spending money', citing he intended to buy some presents to placate his elder sister's temper, to which the Flamels relented, Nicholas chuckling in amusement even as he escorted his wife out of the bank, intent on doing some shopping of their own, leaving Herwald to his own devices, the boy moving to join the queues lining up before the goblins, only to pause as a familiar voice called out to him, turning to see Hermione Granger, his bushy haired Gryffindor friend, rushing towards him excitedly.

"Oh, it's wonderful to see you again!" the Gryffindor girl enthused, moving to embrace her Slytherin friend, only to recover herself, clearly having made use of the 'Wizarding Etiquette' book he'd gifted her with for Christmas last year "Did you just arrive?"

"Ja." Herwald admitted, smiling at his first female friend, well, his first BRITISH female friend, even as he glanced over her shoulder "Are you here alone?"

"Oh no, Hermione countered "I'm here with my parents." She explained gesturing to the side, where Herwald espied the elder Grangers standing nervously at the counter, apparently exchanging pounds for Wizarding currency "Come say hello!"

Herwald consented, allowing his friend to lead him through the crowd to introduce him to her parents, who were pleasant and welcoming, albeit a little nervous, looking distinctly out of place in the sea of robes and Goblins that was Gringotts. It was quite understandable really; they were Mundanes after all, DENTISTS at that, a profession made all the more apparent by the little flinches they gave every time a Goblin leered at them with their sharp yellow teeth.

"So you're this Herwald my daughter's been going on about." Thomas Granger noted, turning his attention away from the maniacally grinning goblin, putting on his 'protective father' frown, though it was clear from his eyes and the quirk of his lips he was only playing, as he eyed the adopted Einzbern "Just what are your intentions for my daughter?"

"Pure, Herr Granger, I assure you." Herwald replied, his tone laced with amusement, both at the man's obvious jest, and the idea that he thought he could intimidate the boy. Grandfather Jubstacheit was intimidating, Rin when annoyed was intimidating, Fujimura Taiga when HUNGRY was VERY intimidating, if amusing, and Berserker simply BREATHING had often caused weaker willed beings to simply curl up and die. Compared to that, Dan Granger's half-teasing glare was like water off a duck's asche "We're only twelve, after all, I think you have some time before you need to worry about the slew of suitors coming to whisk your daughter." He snorted "Though I'd be wary of any with a family library."

Hermione flushed as her father barked in laughter, sending an accusing look at her friend and parents, as even her mother was tittering at her daughter's expense. "Here Hermione, that you?" a familiar voice called out, Herwald turning just in time to see Fred, 'or was it George?' one of the infamous Weasley twins peering at them through the crowd "Blimey! It's been ages!"

"Hello to you too George." Herwald greeted, earning a look of shock from one half of the Weasley twins as he smirked coyly "Or is it Fredrick? I can never tell, Where is your other half anyway?"

"Call me Fredrick again and I'll bust your lip Harry." The other Twin threatened, popping up alongside his brother, though the grin on his face made it clear he was joking as they sidled up to the boy and shook his hand "You here with your family?"

"I'm meeting up with them in a few minutes actually." Herwald assured them, smiling at the twins, who even despite his being a Slytherin and them Gryffindors had been spot on with him during his first year "And you?"

"We're here for our school things." Fred or George responded, Herwald vowing to figure out how to tell them apart one of these days or die trying "Our little sister's joining this year too."

"Might wanna watch your back Harry." The other twin warned, grinning teasingly "She's had a crush on you since she was four years old."

"Gott im Himmel..." Herwald muttered, looking torn between concern and exasperation as he pinched the bridge of his nose, even as the Grangers blinked at his use of German "This has to do with that ridiculous 'Boy Who Lived' thing, doesn't it?"

"Could be." Fred snickered, Herwald only able to tell because the pair hadn't moved since they arrived, sharing a look with his twin "Gotta warn you Harry, as her brothers, we're duty bound to beat the tripe out of you if you hurt her feelings."

"Fred? George?" a voice called out, the twins turning to face a thin, balding man wearing spectacles and long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn. Judging by his familiarity with the twins, and the fact his remaining hair was as fiery as their own, Herwald rightfully suspected the man was their father "Who are you talking to?"

"Over here dad." George waved, confirming Herwald's suspicions even as he gestured the Weasley patriarch over "This is Hermione and Harry, Ron's friends."

"Harry?" Mr. Weasley repeated, pausing mid greeting, blinking blankly at his son's for a moment, before turning to Herwald and jumping "Good lord, is it Harry Potter?" he exclaimed, eyes wide with delight as he brushed himself down nervously "Arthur Weasley, I must say I'm very pleased to meet you, Ron's told us so much about you!"

"Indeed?" Herwald wondered, quirking a brow, honestly surprised, and a little unnerved, at the sight of the older Magus practically tripping over himself to greet him, making a note to ask Ron just what the hell he'd been telling his parents over the summer "A pleasure to meet you, Herr Weasley." He offered, bowing to the elder magus as he'd been taught "Though I believe Ron forgot to mention I go by Herwald now."

"Hmm?" Mr. Weasley wondered, blinking in confusion, only to start a little as something clicked "Oh...yes, I'd forgotten." He stammered, his excitement not dimming in the slightest, though now it was tinged with what seemed to be fearful respect "Is it true then? You were adopted by the Einzbern family?"

"I was." Herwald confirmed, his tone polite, even as he quirked a brow at the older man's lack of fear at the revelation, wondering if it was a genetic trait he'd passed on to his sons "If you don't mind my saying so, Herr Weasley, you don't seem very shocked."

"Oh I'm surprised, to be sure." Mr. Weasley assured the boy-who-lived, chuckling softly "Though that doesn't change what I think of you, I've always told my boys to never judge a book by its cover."

"A trait which is a bit redundant when it comes to George and Frederick, by their own admission." Herwald noted, smirking in amusement at Fred as the twin scowled at the name, though he was quick to turn his ire on George when his other half-guffawed loudly, allowing Harry to introduce the Grangers "Have you met the Grangers, Herr Weasley? From what Hermione tells me, they're quite the Premiere Dentists."

"But you're Muggles!" Mr. Weasley declared delightedly, his eyes widening with joy as he turned to greet the Grangers, who'd been waiting patiently for the man to notice them, the Weasley Patriarch shaking them both by the hand "Oh pardon my manners, if my wife were here she'd give me such a scolding, lovely woman, can't wait to introduce you."

"Introduce me to WHO Arthur?" a voice asked, Herwald turning to espy short, plump, kind-faced woman pushing her way towards them, her handbag held in one hand, the other holding the hand of a familiar, redheaded girl he'd last seen running alongside Illyasviel at the train station the previous year. Trudging behind her were Ron, and another redheaded boy, older than the twins, which Herwald recognised as the third eldest son, Percy.

"Molly!" Arthur exclaimed, releasing Tom Granger's arm, much to the dentist's relief, guiding the Weasley Matriarch towards the group "Molly, do come say hello, I've just run into Hermione and Harry, sorry, Herwald, Ron's friends, and her parents."

"A pleasure to meet you." The Weasley matriarch greeted, smiling at the Grangers, who relaxed, unable to believe such an ordinary woman could be a witch, then again, the only example they had to go by was Professor Minerva McGonagall, who was intimidating at the best of times, turning her gaze over to the children, only to blink at the sight of Harry "Oh Merlin...Harry Potter?"

"I go by Herwald von Einzbern now, frau Weasley." Herwald introduced, bowing once again, right hand over his heart, his left held a little away from his body, as he'd been taught "A pleasure to meet you."

"Oh! Not at all!" Molly Weasley countered, looking rather flushed, or was it embarrassed, at being greeted so formally by someone more than half her age "Oh Ron's told us so much about you!"

"So I've been told." Herwald noted, casting a half-bemused, half-annoyed glare towards his redheaded friend, whose ears turned pink as he winced apologetically, only to relent, instead turning his attention to the redheaded girl that was even now trying to hide behind her mother's skirts "I take it this is your daughter?"

"Oh, yes!" Molly admitted, rallying admirably as she pushed her youngest out from behind her, a motherly smile on her face despite the youngest redhead's look of terror "This is our Youngest, Ginerva, she's starting Hogwarts this year. Say hello Ginny."

"Hello." Ginny greeted, her features flushing a bright scarlet as she peeked shyly up at the adopted Einzbern, only to glare angrily at the twins as they sniggered.

"Guten Tag, Frau Weasley." Herwald greeted, offering the same bow to the girl as he had her mother, a kind smile on his face "Or should I say, nice to see you again? I believe you've already met mien sister, Illyasviel? The girl from the platform last year?"

"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed, her brown eyes widening in surprised recollection after a moment, even as her parents blinked at the word 'sister' "I remember! The girl with the lovely white hair!"

"She's very proud of her hair, she gets it from her mother." Herwald explained, smiling at the girl, before turning to her parents "Illyasviel's father adopted me, you could say she's my step-sister, though we never let such things concern us."

"I...see..." Mrs. Weasley noted, looking both surprised and confused, only to shake her head and turn to her husband, who was chatting with the Grangers, apparently fascinated with Mundane British currency "Arthur, I'll be taking Ginny to the vault, can you keep an eye on the boys?"

"I was actually going to invite the Grangers for a drink Molly." Mr Weasley countered, gesturing to the Dentists "Not to far, just to the Leakey Cauldron."

"Oh alright then..." Molly sighed, shaking her head with a bemused smile, before turning to Herwald and Hermione "Would you like to come along dears?"

"I was about to visit my own vault, Frau Weasley." Herwald admitted, returning the woman's smile, unable to help but feel comfortable in her presence, she gave of the same motherly air that Perenelle Flamel exhibited, "I've some time before I need to meet with my family. Shall we?"

* * *

><p><em>Come sing with me! ya-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-ya-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-!<em>

The small, goblin-driven carts that sped along miniature train tracks through the bank's underground tunnels were just as harrowing an experience as Herwald recalled, more so than ever, though he found it hard pressed not to whoop along with Hermione and the Weasleys, Molly and Percy excluded, as they raced through the caverns towards their family vault.

As a result, he couldn't help but feel like a heel when the door to the vault actually opened, revealing a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and one lonely golden Galleon. It had been heart wrenching to watch as Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners, as if searching for any stragglers, before sweeping the whole lot into her bag and turning around with a smile to face the silent entourage, Herwald managing to force his features into a mask of neutrality, tapping Hermione in the small of her back to get her to lower her hands from her mouth.

As such, when they got to HIS vault, the Baron of house Potter, rather than waiting for the Goblin to open the door fully, marched in once it had opened wide enough, shovelled a handful of gold and silver into the leather pouch provided, and promptly stepped out, tipping the stunned Goblin with a Galleon once they'd gotten back to the surface, where the group split up, Percy muttering vaguely about needing a new quill, Fred and George racing off to meet their friend Lee Jordan, while Mrs. Weasley and Ginny made their way to a second-hand robe shop, the Weasley Matriarch calling over her shoulder for them to meet at Flourish and Blott's in an hour, warning the twins to stay away from a place called Knockturn Alley.

"So where would you like to go?" Hermione asked, having been given the converted wizarding currency to buy her books from her parents.

"I'd actually like to stop by a few places first." Herwald admitted with a smile "I need to look for gifts to placate Ilya, I wasn't with her all summer so she's likely to be very vexed with me."

"Younger sister's can be a right terror when their pissed." Ron agreed sagely, even as Hermione giggled at the boys' predicament.

"Older actually." Herwald countered, earning a look of shock from the redhead "Remember? I told you she suffered from an ailment that stunted her growth, she's actually eighteen."

"Blimey..." Ron muttered, looking stunned even as Hermione's brows quirked "In that case mate I'd get advice from dad, he knows how to calm mum down better than anyone."

"I'll take that under consideration in future." Herwald chuckled "Though I think I know mien own sister well enough by now to know just what she'd be looking for..."

* * *

><p><em>Later...<em>

Sure enough, after making their way to several stops, Herwald and Hermione having to literally DRAG Ron away from Quality Quidditch Supplies, which was displaying a set of Chudley Cannon's Robes in the window, the trio made their way towards Florean Fortesque's Ice-cream parlour for a treat, when Herwald was suddenly accosted by a small, purple and white projectile. "HERWALD!" it cheered, Ron and Hermione blinking as they realized the missile was, in fact, a girl with hair as pale as snow, dressed in a purple blouse over a white skirt "I missed you!"

_"Hello, Ilya..."_ Herwald greeted, his smile warm as he embraced his sibling, running his fingers through her beautiful white hair, only to pause, stepping back to look at her with a look of surprise _"Ilya..."_ he asked in German _"did you grow?"_

_"Yep!"_ Illyasviel replied, stepping back with a twirl, her bright crimson eyes, set in a pale face framed by silken white hair drawing looks from the crowd, not that she cared, not with her sibling before her after so long apart _"I was surprised too! But apparently whatever Mr Flamel did fixed me in more ways than one!"_

Herwald couldn't help it, he simply gaped at his sister in awe, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Traditionally, Homunculi, even those created by Einzberns, did not age once their set limit had been reached. Sella and Leysritt, who appeared to be in their Twenties, were actually no older than Three years of age, their physical growth having been accelerated in order to prepare them for servitude as Ilya's maids. Even Irisviel, Ilya's mother, was no exception, having been coined with the appearance of a woman in her mid to late twenties, never aging a day from that point up until her death during the events of the 4th grail war.

But Illyasviel was different, even in the manner of her birth, having been conceived from the union of Irisviel, a Homunculus designed as the vessel for the 4th Holy Grail, and a man, Emiya Kiritsugu, a renowned Magus Killer and the man that adopted Herwald, then Harry, and later Shirou, gifting the latter his name and leaving the former with the Einzberns along with Illyasviel, albeit unwillingly. She'd been conceived normally, but even prior to that, she'd undergone tremendous treatment that would later affect her growth, the Einzberns having already decided to use the 'miracle child' as the NEXT vessel, provided her mother 'failed'. Those same modifications would later threaten her life after the 5th Grail war ended without an apparent victor, only Flamel's use of The Stone saving her very soul from dying.

_"But never mind that!"_ Illyasviel exclaimed, still speaking in German, Herwald feeling a shiver race up and down his spine as she frowned at him, her hands on her hips _"You were gone all summer and all you sent me was the occasional letter!"_

_"Sorry..."_ Herwald winced, recognizing the beginnings of a patented Illyasviel tantrum, cursing Berserker for not being here and Gilgamesh for killing the Greek Hero, even as he held up the travelling case in his hand _"But look! I bought you a present!"_

"Hmm?" Ilya wondered, blinking in confusion, leaning forward to look between the bars, only to squeal at the sight of the little tiger-striped kitten peering back at her _"EEE! A KITTY!" _she squealed, scooping the little bundle up in her arms _"Oh it looks just like a tiger doesn't it! I know! I'll call you Taiga!"_

_"Smooth, Herwald-kun."_ A familiar voice called out in Japanese, Herwald looking up to see a familiar face, framed by long purple hair and stylish reading glasses, standing nearby _"You do know Fujimura's going to kill you when she sees that?"_

_"Verdammt Gorgon..."_ Herwald cursed, even as he flinched at the realization, the smile on his face belying his words as he turned to face the purple haired woman _"Is Sakura-san well?"_

"Mm," Rider nodded, running her fingers through her luxurious purple locks _"She says she's sorry she couldn't make it, but someone needed to be there to keep Rin from going overboard with Shirou's training."_

_"Which basically means she doesn't want to leave Rin-san with Shirou for too long unattended."_ Herwald snorted, shaking his head at his step-brother's luck at snagging two sisters as lovers, only to turn back to his friends, who were blinking at him in confusion "Oh, where are my manners." He muttered, shaking his head "Ron, Hermione, permit me to introduce mien Sister, Illyasviel von Einzbern, and Rider, a friend of the family."

"A pleasure to meet you." Illyasviel greeted in perfect English, curtseying perfectly to the pair even as Rider nodded "Thank you for looking after my little brother, he must have caused you so much trouble."

"Bloody hell, he wasn't joking..." Ron muttered, unable to believe the girl before him, who looked no older than Ginny, was in fact older than Percy.

* * *

><p><em>Even lay-ter...<em>

After stopping at Fortesque's Ice-Cream Parlour, where Herwald treated everyone to large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams, they wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows, running into Fred, George and Lee in Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, where the trio tried, unsuccessfully, to flirt with Rider, only for her to shoot them down in flames, their overly dramatic reactions earning peals of childish laughter from Illyasviel, whom they treated like a princess, earning her immediate approval, as they walked down the way to Flourish and Blotts', chatting about their respective families on the way.

"'Course, he's very ambitious, Percy," Ron admitted, having run into his elder brother in a junk shop reading a worn copy of 'Prefects Who Gained Power' "he's got it all planned out, wants to be Minister of Magic-what the hell's going on?."

The redhead's surprise was understandable, as a large crowd, mostly composed of witches of around Mrs. Weasley's age, was jostling outside the doors of the bookstore, trying to get in, Herwald's brow quirking as he espied the reason for the disturbance, a large banner stretched across the upper windows that proclaimed: 'GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME today 12:30P. 4:30P.M.'

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed, looking like Christmas had come early "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

Herwald quirked a brow at the girl, a sense of dread washing over him at the idea that the man inside was apparently some sort of celebrity. The crowd before them seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age, and a harassed-looking wizard standing at the front looked to be at his wits end trying to calm the horde from advancing further. It took employing Rin's patented use of elbows to clear a path, but eventually they fought their way into the store, the Einzberns and Rider espying the Flamels in a corner, moving to greet them while Hermione dragged a reluctant Ron into the cue. _"Master, Mrs Flamel."_ Herwald greeted in polite French _"I believe you've met my Sister, and Rider?"_

_"Ah, Herwald."_ The Alchemist returned, smiling at the group as they approached _"And good day to you, Madoiselles, I trust you are well?"_

_"Very well, Master Nicholas."_ Illyasviel greeted, curtseying politely to the man that had saved her life, Rider inclining her head respectfully _"I trust my brother wasn't a bother?"_

_"Au contraire."_ Perenelle countered, smiling at the deceptively young child before her with a mothering air even Ilya found hard pressed to ignore _"He was a perfect gentleman, you should be proud."_

_"I am."_ Illyasviel admitted, and Herwald felt his chest fill with pride at her words _"But enough of that, are you here for the book signing too?"_

_"Heaven's no."_ Perenelle scoffed, looking affronted by the very idea _"Honestly, why good, honest woman would flock to a vapid fop like that is beyond me. In MY day, a man like that was NOT to be trusted around women of marriageable age."_

_"The times change, mon amour…"_ Nicholas soothed, his tone placating even as he closed the book he was reading _"And while the man DOES seem to wax poetic on his own legend, at the very least the material covered is accurate."_

_"You're too soft, Nicholas."_ Perenelle sighed, the sorceress shaking her brown head, a bemused smile on her face even as Herwald eyed the books in his master's arms.

_"I take it THOSE are the…books recommended for this year?"_ he asked, quirking a brow at the titles, which seemed to focus on certain creatures in particular.

_"Indeed."_ Perenelle sniffed, eyeing the books dismissively _"OH don't get me wrong, the information seems…accurate…"_ for Perenelle, that probably meant it was BARELY adequate _"But it's more like a glorified travel log than a textbook."_

_"All the more reason to save my apprentice from wasting his parent's savings on them then."_ Nicholas soothed, smiling at the boy as he placed the books in a charmed sack before handing them to the boy _"Happy Birthday, Herwald."_

_"Merci beaucoup, Master."_ Herwald thanked the Alchemist, unable to voice his protests, as the man had already given him a greater gift than any when he saved Illyasviel's life. Had Flamel ordered Herwald to commit a crime, even murder, as payment, Herwald would not have refused, instead the man had made him his apprentice. There was no END to the gratitude he felt for the Flamels, and he vowed he would spend the rest of his life repaying them.

"I say, is that you Herwald?" a voice called out, the Einzbern turning to espy Draco Malfoy, another friend and fellow Slytherin, weaving his way towards him through the crowd "It IS you! Merlin it's been forever since I last saw you!"

"It's only been a few months, Draco." Herwald countered, though he smiled nonetheless as he shook his friend firmly by the hand, as was Pureblood Custom among friends "Are Gregory and Vincent with you?"

"No, I'm here with my Father actually, I finally convinced him to by me a Nimbus 2001." Draco admitted, his face filled with pride, though whether it as directed towards his Sire or the broom was debatable "I simply must introduce you," he paused, as if seeing their onlookers for the first time "Oh, pardon me, are you with family?"

"And friends." Herwald admitted, gesturing to the others "These are the Flemings," he introduced the Flamels, using a fake name they'd employed before "Old family friends, Miss Rider, an associate of mien Step-brother, and my sister, Illyasviel."

"Pleasure to meet you." Ilya curtsied, smiling at the Malfoy Heir who for some reason seemed to be rather flushed as he stared at Rider "Thank you for taking care of my brother."

"Oh! Not at all…" Malfoy countered, waving a hand dismissively, shaking his head to recover from his flush, though his cheeks were still pink and he kept stealing glances at Rider, only to straighten as he espied a familiar face "Ah, Father!"

Herwald turned, the Adopted Einzbern quirking a bro at the approaching Wizard, who even a complete idiot couldn't mistake for anyone other than Draco's father, as he possessed the same pale, pointed face and grey eyes, though Herwald liked to think Draco's were brighter, and less ominous.

"So this is where you've run off to, Draco." He muttered, quirking a brow lazily as he glanced over the group, clearly seeing them as beneath him "Who are your…friends?"

"Father." Draco bowed, inclining his head to his sire respectfully, before gesturing towards Herwald with a smile "Permit me to introduce my friend, Herwald von Einzbern. Herwald, my father, Lucius Malfoy"

"Greetings, Lord Malfoy." Herwald offered, bowing to the Lord of Malfoy, as was proper in pureblood circles, noting with some amusement the man's eyes had widened at the mention of the Einzbern name "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Indeed…" the Lord of Malfoy returned, recovering from his shock, regarding the Einzbern youth with wariness in is cold grey eyes "Draco speaks often of you. It has been many years since an Einzbern walked the halls of Hogwarts, traditionally they go to Durmstrang."

"It was my late parents wish that I attend Hogwarts, apparently." Herwald countered, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke as he truly didn't have much emotional attachment to the Potters. Oh there was SOME, if his vision in the Mirror of Erised was to be believed, but to him, his only family would always be Illyasviel, Shirou, and the Einzbern Homunculi.

"I see." Lucius noted, his features calm, though Herwald could tell he was being evaluated by the elder man, emerald eyes clashing with grey as the Einzbern youth matched the Lord of Malfoy look for look, Draco's father relenting after a moment with a look of grudging, if nervous approval "Very well, I shall leave you to your shopping, Lord Einzbern, come Draco."

Draco nodded, shaking hands with Herwald one last time, bowing to the Flamels, Illyasviel and Rider one last time before moving to follow his father out of the store, only to pull up short as they bumped into the Weasleys and Hermione, who'd apparently come looking for Herwald when they missed him in the crowd. "Well, well, well." Lucius sneered, the Lord of Malfoy standing with his hand on Draco's shoulder, his cane held in the other "If it isn't Arthur Weasley."

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley greeted, nodding coldly towards Draco's father, Herwald honestly surprised to see the loathing in the normally affable man's eyes.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Lucius Malfoy drawled, as if bored "All those raids… I DO hope they're paying you overtime?" he noted, only to reach out, his gloved hands darting like a snake, extracting from amidst the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered, copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. "Obviously not." He mused "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy." Arthur Weasley countered, even as he flushed a darker shade of red than any of his children had ever managed, though whether it was from embarrassment, anger or shame was debatable. Personally, Herwald was leaning more towards Anger, as he'd seen that look before whenever Rin was about to have a tantrum.

Herwald glanced at Draco, who met his gaze and nodded subtly, tugging on his father's robe discreetly whilst clearing his throat "Father, we should go, Mother will worry if we are late."

Lucius glanced at his son, a frown marring his features, before wordlessly tossing the battered book into the cauldron and turning on his heel, Draco pausing to offer Ron small, almost unnoticeable nod, which the redhead returned, before following after his sire.

* * *

><p>And I believe that'll do for now.<p>

Spy: Zat Lucius is one bad mother...

Kyugan:...yes go on?

Spy: Perdon, usually people tell me to, 'ow you say, 'shut yo mouth' whenever I do zat.

Kyugan: I'm different, swear away. Just watch out for Karma Piro.

Spy: Who? *Turns to see Piro wering a cape with a k on his mask* Why?

Kyugan: Because Every team needs karma.

Karma Piro: HMHMHMHMHMHMHMHM!


	3. Chapter 3 Back to Hogwarts

Picking up where we left off.

Heavy: Very good! VERRRY GOOOOD!

Spy: Indeed.

Kyugan: Most definately. In any case, the Wheel of fate is turning, let's see what the shift in the continuum has wrought!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3: Back to Hogwarts.<span>

"Well…" Arthur huffed, having not missed the exchange between his son and the son and Draco as the Malfoy's swept out of the store "It's good to see that Malfoy's son hasn't picked up his father's bad habits…"

"Oh don't start Arthur…" Molly sighed, though the Weasley Matriarch looked just as put out by the Lord of Malfoy's actions "Honestly, you should know better than to start a fight with him in a public place."

Whatever Arthur was about to say was cut off, for at that moment a short, irritable-looking man, who Herwald had noticed dancing around the store taking photographs with a large black camera, shoved past him, knocking the cauldron with their purchases to the floor.

"Out of the way." the photographer snarled at Ginny, who was already reaching down to pick up her things, putting her in the man's way as he backed up for a better shot, only for Herwald's right hand to lash out and grab the lens of the camera, alchemical lightning arching through it, the man releasing it with a shriek as it exploded in a cloud of purple smoke "What the hell are you doing!" he demanded, rounding on the apprentice alchemist "That was for the daily prophet-!"

"I don't give a DAMN." Herwald countered, his emerald eyes boring into the older man's own like daggers, freezing him in place "YOU were the one that bumped into HER." he gestured to Ginny, who looked torn between mortification and awe "I suggest you apologize to the Fräulein for your offence, and then kindly, how do you Englanders put it? Oh yes, bugger off to wherever it is pests like you go where they won't bother anyone else."

Behind the youth, Nicholas sighed, shaking his head at his apprentice's use of alchemy, while Perenelle, Rider and Illyasviel smiled at the boy's chivalry, wryly in Rider's case. Ginny, on the other hand, had turned a shade of red so bright her already flaming hair was liable to catch fire, while the Grangers and the rest of the Weasleys, with the exception of Fred, George, Ron and Hermione, were eyeing the boy in surprise at his display of power.

"What's going on here?" a voice asked, breaking the spell, the group turning, as one, to see a tall, handsome wizard in forget-me-not blue robes that matched his eyes walking towards them, the crowd parting before him like the red sea before Moses, his wizard's hat worn at a jaunty angle on his wavy blonde hair "Is there something wrong?"

"Mr. Lockhart!" the cameraman wheedled, pointing at Harry accusingly, like a child ratting out another child to their teacher "He went and broke my camera sir! I can't take any more pictures without it!"

Gilderoy Lockhart, for indeed, that was who the man was, turned to look at Herwald, a mild frown forming on his features, only to flinch in the face of his emerald glare, his eyes glancing upwards, only to widen as they landed on the boy's forehead "It can't be! Harry Potter?"

Herwald cursed, his hand clapping over his forehead far too late, the crowd already breaking into excited whispers, wondering if he could make it to the door before they mobbed him, for as much a celebrity as this Lockhart freak as, Herwald was considered the Wizarding World's 'golden boy', pretty much the closest thing to the second-coming of Christ if half the stories he'd read about himself were to be believed. He was just debating whether or not to use the Potter Ring to slip out when Lockhart dived forward, seized his arm in a surprisingly strong grip, for a wizard, and pulled him to the front to the applause of the crowd.

"Nice big smile, Harry," the brainless blonde fop grinned, displaying a mouthful of gleaming white teeth "Together, you and I are worth the front page-EEEAAAARRRGH!"

His cry of pain was well founded, for Rider, with the speed only a Servant could match, had come up behind the man and, in one swift move, broke his arm with one hand. "Let him go." She warned, twisting the broken limb mercilessly behind the screaming wizard's back, again with one hand.

"Danke, Rider." Herwald offered, shaking his hand from the older Magus' feeble grip, dusting himself off carefully, before delivering a reinforced blow to Lockhart's stomach, doubling the man over and dropping him to his knees, grabbing him by the hair to keep him from falling over. "A word of advice, Herr Lockhart," the adopted Einzbern warned, his tone cold as he glared at the whimpering Magus "Keep your hands to yourself from now on. Had Rider not intervened when she did, I'd have ripped your hand OFF."

So saying, he released his grip of Lockhart's head, the magus collapsing into a whimpering ball on the floor, Herwald allowing a few scant golden hairs to fall from his hands as he strode past the horrified horde of witches, who could only look on in disbelief as their idol was bested by a boy, admittedly the Boy-Who-Lived, but a boy nonetheless.

"I believe we've overstayed our welcome." Rider noted, the servant coolly noting that some of the witches in the crowd were looking positively murderous. Herwald wasn't really concerned with this, as even without Alchemy he had more battle experience than everyone in the store with the exception of his sister, Rider and the Flamels, but he knew first hand that when a female Magus lost their temper, more than sparks would fly.

"So it would seem." he noted calmly, refusing to be intimidated as he returned to his sister's side "Sister, it's time to go." He called out calmly, already readying his arrays in case he had to transmute a shield or an escape tunnel "Ron, Hermione,I shall see you on the train, do give my regards to your parents, would you?"

"Right mate…" Ron muttered, looking torn between shock and awe at how easily his friend had taken down one of the self-proclaimed 'greatest' anti-dark wizards alive, while Hermione simply looked torn between annoyed and concerned, an expression apparently shared by Mrs Weasley, while Ginny was gaping at Herwald with her mouth open, though Herwald missed it as he sent a silent farewell to the Flamels, who nodded, Nicholas looking torn between amusement and exasperation, while Perenelle was smiling triumphantly at the boy as he swept out of the store, Illyasviel and Rider on his tail, the latter laughing at the chaos her little brother had left behind them all the way to Gringotts.

* * *

><p><em>Emiya estate...<em>

"Oh that' rich!" Rin cackled, the red-clad jewel mage's hand slapping on the dinner table as Herwald finished recounting his encounter in Diagon Alley "Man takes down assorted monsters, but goes down from a single gut-check from a twelve year old?"

"It isn't THAT funny, Rin-san…" Herwald muttered, eyeing the elder Tohsaka sibling in annoyance as she continued to slap the table before her in amusement, sending a betrayed look at Sakura, who had let out a guilty titter as she covered her mouth "Not you too, Sakura-san."

"G-gomen, Herwald-kun." The younger Tohsaka and heir apparent of house Makiri tittered, her pretty features flushed from holding in her laughter "It's just…well you DO seem to run into trouble a lot…"

"Even more since you turned out to be Harry Potter." Rider noted, her tone amused as she turned the page on one of the books Herwald had picked up for her over the summer, a French novel that was almost as old as the Flamels "Where'd you learn to punch like that by the way?"

"Perenelle thought it would be best to know how to take opponent's down without killing them, so she taught me the basics of boxing and Savate." Herwald revealed, earning looks on interest from the others, even as he smiled weakly "Master might be the most premiere Alchemist on the planet, but he's a pacifist who prefers to solve problems with words rather than Alchemy." He shivered slightly "Perenelle on the other hand…"

He trailed off with a shiver, but the message was clear to the rest of the Emiya extended family nonetheless. Nicholas Flamel might be regarded as The Alchemist, but his wife Perenelle had been regaled as The Sorceress even BEFORE they'd crafted the Philosopher's Stone. You did NOT cross a Seventh Daughter of a Seventh Daughter even on their worst of days, Perenelle Flamel had been around for centuries, pissing her off was tantamount to suicide.

"Well enough about that." Shirou spoke up, eager to move the topic away from such ominous thoughts and back to where it mattered "Welcome back Herwald." He greeted with a smile, his ochre eyes bright and welcoming "We missed you."

"It's good to be back, Shirou." Herwald replied, smiling at the redhead that shared his status as Kiritsugu's step-child, only to blink as the door to the living room opened, admitting the ever energetic Fujimura Taiga.

"SHIROU! I'M HOME!" the hyperactive teacher/archery coach cheered, her eyes closed as she greeted her unfortunate ward with her usual lack of tact "What's for dinner? I'm starving!"

"Hello to you too, Fujimura-sensei." Herwald greeted, his tone amused, as despite himself, he'd honestly missed the overly dramatic woman's antics "I trust you had an interesting Summer?"

"Eh?" the older woman wondered, turning to look at the boy, her brown eyes widening in surprise as they met his startling emerald "AH! Herwald-kun! When did YOU get back?"

"Just today." Herwald replied, smiling at the older woman that was like an elder sister to Shirou in many ways, even if she WAS a hopeless freeloader at times "I brought you a souvenir actually."

"Oh you shouldn't have!" the woman countered, though her eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas at the mention of souvenirs "You see Shirou? You should take a leaf out of Herwald-kun's book sometimes!"

"I already cook you breakfast, lunch and dinner, what more do you want, Fuji-nee?" Shirou countered wryly only to be predictably ignored as Taiga gushed over the box of French goodies Herwald had brought her, just as the door opened again, revealing Illyasviel and her new pet.

"Can't you keep it down, Tiger?" the deceptively young girl demanded, cuddling the kitten in her arms like a baby "You scared poor Taiga to death!"

Needless to say, the 'Tiger of Fuyuki' did NOT enjoy being addressed by her nickname, nor did she appreciate the irony of naming Illyasviel's pet after her either.

* * *

><p><em>One Taiga Dojo scene layter...<em>

After the fallout from what was secretly referred to as the 'Tiger Incident', the rest of the summer passed quietly, but far too quickly for Herwald's liking. While he admitted he was eager to get back to Hogwarts, meddling old Twinklers aside, it was one of the best schools in the Magical World, he wasn't so eager to say farewell to his adoptive family after spending most of the summer away from them.

After she got over her annoyance with Illyasviel, Taiga revealed that the results for Herwald's exams, the one's he'd completed through post, had come in, and that he'd passed with flying colours, which apparently gave her reason enough to break out the sake, an act she regretted come the morning, as Illyasviel delighted in her hangover.

Other than reviewing his prior lessons, making sure he retained all his notes, Herwald spent most of his time either sparring with Shirou, the elder male wanting to see what Savate was like, playing with Illyasviel, and simply reading ahead in his textbooks, which was regrettably not as interesting as he'd thought it'd be.

The reason for this was, predictably, the Lockhart books, which as Nicholas and Perenelle surmised, were little more than glorified travel logs. True, the methods by which he used to deal with the numerous assorted beasties he encountered were ingenious, but that didn't change the fact that, if you cut out all the blather, pomp and ceremony, the book would only be a FRACTION of the size it was, and likely less expensive.

Who the hell cared how hard it was to get your hair to curl 'just so' in a blizzard when there were YETIS prowling around looking for people to beat to a bloody pulp for trespassing on their mountain?

Rin, naturally, deduced the man was some sort of attention-seeking media whore, which earned a concerned look from Sakura, who didn't think bad-mouthing people was appropriate, and a snort from Rider, Herwald and Illyasviel, who'd met the man and believed the term was just the TIP of the proverbial iceberg.

As such, Herwald was rather glad that Perenelle had thought ahead and added some extra books, recommended by prior DADA professors, to his collection. Seeing as these professors had been around BEFORE whatever curse had been placed on the position, this meant they'd had years to get comfortable with the position and a grasp on just what the student body was capable of.

However, as the old saying goes, time flies when you're having fun, and sure enough, Herwald's last evening with his step-family for the year had arrived, as he was to be on the Hogwarts express the next day.

Sakura had decided to cook the dinner that evening, and in Herwald's opinion, the younger Tohsaka had outdone herself, preparing a sumptuous dinner that included everyone's favourite things, ranging from European to Eastern Dishes, which had Taiga literally drooling at the mere sight of them. By the end of the feast, the poor woman was too full to even move, and had to stay in a guest room. Herwald spent the night with Illyasviel, the two hugging each other as they had when he'd been a child in the Einzbern castle, Illyasviel's cool fingers, trailing through his hair the last thing he felt before falling asleep.

Naturally, he and Shirou were up at dawn, getting in one last spar before the redhead left to make breakfast, much to the affront of Sella, who couldn't accept how the redhead was able to rouse earlier than she and Leysritt, the latter of which simply greeted the boys with a smile before heading off to rouse Ilya and the others.

* * *

><p><em>september 11th...<em>

Unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Taiga had apparently eaten more than she could handle the previous evening, and so was laid up with a terrible case of indigestion. As pitiable as the scene was, the group wisely decided this would be the best opportunity for Herwald to slip away without alerting the woman, and so he said his farewells, Rider, Illyasviel, Stella and Leysritt accompanying him to Diagon Alley via the portkey provided by Gringotts, the others opting to stay behind to keep an eye on Taiga.

"We don't need a big crowd anyway." Rider insisted, helping Herwald lug his trunk onto one of the trolleys provided at King's Cross station, having taken another magical taxi to get there, much to Sella's discomfort, as apparently the 'elder' of the homunculi maids didn't handle rapid travel any better than Shirou, though she took some pride in that she didn't throw up as the redhead had "Just draws attention."

They had arrived around quarter to eleven, Herwald unable to help feeling a little jet-lagged, even if he'd only leftJapana few minutes prior, it didn't change the fact the Island Nation was at least nine hours ahead ofLondon. As such, he was looking forward to stowing his trunk on the Express and finding a nice cabin to relax in, so he was quite surprised when Rider grabbed his shoulder, her eyes narrowing behind her spectacles as she glared at the barrier dividing platforms nine and ten, behind which lay the entrance to Platform Nine and 3/4. "The barrier's closed." She muttered, earning looks of alarm from the others "We're not late, look at the clocks, but it feels like someone's forcibly closed off the barrier."

"You noticed it too?" Illyasviel noted the deceptively young girl looking around in suspicion, even as Sella and Leysritt tensed, the latter wishing she'd been allowed to bring her halberd with her.

"My ability to detect magic might not be as high as Saber, Archer or Assassin's were." Rider noted offhandedly "But I'm a Servant, even the weakest of us could detect a shift in the magic around us" she gestured to the barrier "Also, I've seen the barrier before, so I can tell someone's tampered with it."

"Can you fix it?" Herwald demanded, keeping his voice low even as he tensed his right hand, ready to flee or fight as the situation demanded, even as Rider curled her lip, a cold, almost serpentine smile forming on her face as she brought one manicured hand up to the barrier, tracing it with her nail almost lovingly, Herwald unable to help the shiver that raced down his spine as he felt whatever magic was blocking the barrier RECOIL from her touch, before fading to nothing.

"Breaking through bounded fields may not be my specialty…" the Gorgon admitted, lowering her hand and eyeing her nail carefully for any blemishes "But for someone with divinity, even one of reduced circumstances like myself, all you need is to be a little…persuasive."

"I bet Berserker could've got it to behave just by GLARING at it." Illyasviel boasted, earning a snort from Rider and a bemused chuckle from Herwald as they passed through, though the youth had to agree she had a point. If Heracles had wanted something to move, it MOVED. The alternative was he'd hit it until the pieces were too small to block his way, and even then he might just continue hitting said pieces simply for being there.

"HARRY!" a voice called out, Herwald turning to see Ron Weasley waving excitedly at him from the window of the last compartment on the Express "Hurry up mate! We saved you a seat!"

"Oh do behave Weasley." An annoyed voice muttered, Herwald quirking a brow as Draco Malfoy appeared next to the redhead, slapping him upside the head for his lack of decorum before smirking at the boy "Stylishly late as always, Herwald?"

"What can I say? It's an Einzbern tradition." Herwald replied, cursing whoever had tampered with the barrier, as he HATED having to lie to his friends right off the bat. However, he knew from experience that Ron would over-react to the house-elf's warning, no doubt dragging Hermione and Neville along for the ride. True, they'd been a tremendous help with the False Stone Incident, but Herwald didn't want them risking their necks like that again. HE had experience, and it had almost killed him, he didn't fancy their chances if any of THEM had gone up against Quirrell.

With a little help from Crabbe and Goyle, the Einzbern youth's trunk was stashed in the luggage rack along with the others, allowing Herwald to say a quick farewell to his family, hugging Illyasviel and the maids, Sella looking like she was about to cry while Leysritt merely smiled in that gentle manner of hers, nodding at Rider who waved coyly, before mounting the train just as the final whistle went off, the Hogwarts Express leaving King's Cross station, bearing students new and old alike back to their home away from home.

* * *

><p><em>Little train is moving-!<em>

The trip up to the castle was amusing, between games of exploding snap, which Neville continued to reign triumphant in, the occasional chess match, where Ron and Draco refused to give way, and simply regaling one another with what they'd gotten up to over the summer, the unlikely band of Gryffindors and Slytherins soon lost track of time.

Hermione and her parents had apparently gone to France for the holiday, where the girl admitted she'd spent most of the time visiting the home of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel prior to their 'deaths'. Herwald had to literally bite his cheek to keep from chuckling in amusement at how annoyed she was that she'd been forbidden entry, as the French Ministère de la Magie had declared the place off-limits after a slew of false claimants and greedy relatives led to Perenelle Flamel placing powerful wards over the place, wards strong enough to rival Gringotts finest in their vindictiveness. The last poor soul who attempted to force his way into the Flamel's former domicile had found himself transfigured into a frog and narrowly avoiding a fate as an entrée at his own family restaurant.

Needless to say, no more attempts were made.

He was just wondering whether or not to point out to Draco that Muggle Aeroplanes were NOT, in fact, a form of firework, when Percy Weasley came by to tell them that they were drawing close to Hogsmeade and to change into their robes. They did so, Hermione leaving for the privacy of the girl's bathroom, leaving the boys to get changed, Herwald ignoring the looks of awe that the others kept sending towards his back and arms before he pulled on his robes, obscuring the alchemical arrays from view, the group shuffling out of the compartment, wincing slightly at the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd disembarking at Hogsmeade station.

"Firs'-years over 'ere! Firs'-years…!" a familiar voice bellowed, Herwlad looking up to see Rubeus Hagrid, the half-giant Groundskeeper and Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts standing at the end of the platform, dressed, as always, in his moleskin overcoat, a lantern held in one hand as he shepherded the first years towards the docks "'lo there Harry!" he greeted when their eyes met "Good summer?"

Herwald nodded, having long come to terms that Hagrid would never remember to call him by the name he preferred, but didn't hold it against the man, it was simply impossible to hate someone as nice as Hagrid, even if he DID have an unfortunate enchant for doing remarkably silly things, like trying to raise a FIRE BREATHING DRAGON in a wooden hut.

"This way Harry!" one of the twins called out, Herwald renewing is vow to somehow manage to differentiate between the pair as the second years followed their seniors down the station, only for Herwald to pull up short.

"Was zur Hölle?" the Einzbern breathed, his eyes wide as he gaped at the scene before him, unable to comprehend why nobody else was panicking.

Before him sat a hundred carriages, waiting for the students to clamber into them and ferry them off to the castle. The problem wasn't the carriages, however, they looked rather comfortable actually, what drew Herwald's eyes were the steeds tethered to said carriages, which could only be called 'horses' in the loosest sense of the word, if someone had managed to cross a horse with a giant reptile.

They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads reminded Herwald vaguely of Norbert, Hagrid's illegal Norwegian Ridgeback, set with pupil-less white eyes that seemed to stare right through him. Wings sprouted from each wither - vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats, which only made it all the more alarming why the rest of the students weren't reacting to the sinister looking things.

"You alright, Herwald?" Draco asked, the Malfoy Heir looking at his friend and roommate in concern as the adopted Einzbern continued to stare at the carriages "You've gone rather pale."

"You can't see them?" Herwald asked, the apprentice alchemist turning to look at the heir of Malfoy out the corner of his eye, not daring to take his eyes off the creatures before him for even a second.

"See what?" Draco asked, frowning at the carriages in suspicion, trying to see what had unnerved his friend so "I can't see anything, are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine…" Herwald muttered, shaking himself eyeing the apparently docile creatures warily as he shrugged "Just tired, time difference and all, be glad to see the inside of the common room after the feast."

"You and me both…" Draco chuckled, before stepping forward to procure a carriage, leaving Herwald on his own for a moment, the Einzbern working to gather his composure.

"It's all right." a dreamy voice spoke up, Herwald whipping round to see a girl, about the same age as Ginny Weasley, with straggly, waist-length dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look standing at his elbow. Even as he looked on Herwald could feel there was something off about her, she just seemed to give the impression she was several Servants short of a Grail War, an image that wasn't helped by her tucking her wand behind her ear for safekeeping as if it were a pencil. "You're not going mad or anything." She assured the boy-who-lived in a dreamy voice that spoke of either mild-concussion or substance abuse "I can see them, too."

"Can you?" Herwald asked, the adopted Einzbern quirking a brow at the girl, one part of him glad SOMEONE else could see the beasties, the other part wondering if only insane people could "What are they?"

"Thestrals." the girl replied in her dreamy voice "I've always been able to see them, my father says they've always pulled the carriages." She smiled at him "So relax, you aren't losing your mind or anything, you're just as sane as I am."

With that she left, slipping off to join the rest of the first years with Hagrid as they made for the docks, leaving Herwald feeling rather self-conscious as he clambered into a carriage, relieved that he wasn't going mad, though unnerved that he was apparently just as sane as the little girl or that wore Butterbeer corks as a necklace.

As it was, he was rather glad to see the back of the beasts as he made his way up the steps towards the main hall, where Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House stood waiting for them.

"Single file please." the cat Animagus called out, her stern black eyes looking for any troublemakers as she led the students to the Great Hall "Prefects, make sure your respective houses are in order!"

Herwald was about to pass the woman and move on with his fellow Second Years when her hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, halting him in his tracks, the Einzbern looking up to see the woman looking at him, her features stern, but polite.

"A moment, Mr. Potter." She insisted, using his 'official' name within the halls of Hogwarts, which according to Herwald's own head of house wouldn't change until he graduated, or was expelled whichever came first "The Headmaster would like to see you."

* * *

><p>And we'll leave off there.<p>

Demoman: Oh fer tha love of pete!

Spy: Can't that bearded fool wait before trying to get his hooks in?

Kyugan: Probably not, but he means well. In any case, stay tuned!


	4. Chapter 4 DADA for DUMMIES

And so we get to see what Dumbles' next move is.

Spy: Knowing ze 'eadmaster, nothing good.

Kyugan: Not manipulative Dumbles, remember?

Spy: But ov course...

Kyugan: Not that I don't like fics with manipulative Dumbles, but I figured I'd try to avoid that route for now, too many out there, especially with Slytherin Harry's.

Heavy: So Much Fanfics!

Kyugan: There there Heavy, there there...in any case, the wheel of Fate is Turning, let's see what this latest shift in the continuum has wrought.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4: Defence Against the Dark Arts for Dummies.<span>

Herwald sighed, muttering unmentionable things in German as he sat in McGonagall's office, waiting for the Sorting to finish so that he could turn his anger on Dumbledore.

It was a justifiable sentiment in his opinion, after all, the year hadn't even officially started yet and already the meddlesome old twinkler was trying to meddle in his affairs. You'd think after the fiasco with the false Philosopher's stone the previous year the man would've learned his lesson, but it seemed Dumbledore was just as stubborn as Grandfather Jubstacheit when it came to getting what he wanted, if not more so, and so had asked McGonagall to escort Herwald away from the hall, the smell of delicious food trailing temptingly after them, ushering him into her office, which he noted was decorated with tartan, a sign of her highland roots, before leaving to continue the sorting.

All in all, it was a rather poorly done, as now not only was Herwald tired, cranky, and mildly concerned for his sanity, now he was hungry and annoyed as all Hell to boot. Needless to say, Dumbledore had better have a good explanation for keeping him here, or Heaven help him there wasn't going to be enough of the man to bury in a matchbox, sealing designation be damned.

No sooner had he thought this did McGonagall return, bringing with her Professor Snape, Herwald's own head of house, and Albus Dumbledore himself, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot smiling apologetically at the boy, only to flinch as Herwald's stare intensified.

"My apologies for keeping you here, Harry." He offered, his tone trying to make light of the situation, only to fail in the face of Herwald's intensifying anger "I regret that the sorting requires the Headmaster's presence and there was a rather bumper crop of difficult placements this year."

"What am I here for, Headmaster?" Herwald demanded, making it clear that he had no desire, nor patience, to listen to the old man's excuses "I highly doubt I have broken a rule so soon after walking through the front gate, certainly not one that would require a personal audience with my Year of Head in attendance."

"Oh no, you didn't break any rules." Dumbledore assured him, eyes twinkling as he glanced at Snape, who shook his head minutely "None that I've heard of anyway. I merely wished to speak with you."

"With all due resects, Headmaster." Herwald muttered, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes that he normally associated with annoying people that just wouldn't take a hint and bugger off "I've had a long day, I'm tired, hungry, and in need of a bath and a warm bed, couldn't this have waited until tomorrow?"

"No, Harry, it couldn't." Dumbledore countered, and Herwald was surprised to hear an undertone of sternness in the Headmaster's voice, looking up to see that, despite the twinkling of his eyes, the man looked unusually grave "I'd like you to tell me where you were this summer."

"With my family." Herwald replied, frowning as he felt something brush against his wards briefly, as if testing they were there, only to recede the moment he reacted to it's presence "I believe I told you so in the infirmary last year."

"Indeed, I do believe we discussed the manner of you staying with your Aunt and Uncle over the summer." Dumbledore admitted, twitching slightly, as if recalling something painful, his features saddening for a moment before looking at the boy "However, from what I understand you never turned up at their house, your Uncle spent the better part of the day waiting for you at King's Cross Station, only to give up when nobody arrived."

"I was unaware that there would be anyone waiting for me at King's Cross, Headmaster." Herwald admitted, quirking a brow in honest surprise, though he hadn't missed the breath of relief McGonagall had released nor the way Snape's posture had relaxed slightly when Dumbledore revealed they'd missed one another, "In any case, I doubt I would have gone anyway, as I needed to return home to deal with a private, Einzbern Family matter."

Not strictly true, as the Einzberns had made it all too clear they hadn't cared if Illyasviel lived or died. However, Shirou and the others had chosen not to reveal this fact, as there was no telling how the pair would react, and the last thing they needed was the Magus Association sending Enforcers out to bring Herwald in for murdering the entire family.

"I…see…" Dumbledore noted, the Supreme Mugwump ignoring his deputy-headmistress' flinch at the Einzbern name in favour of staring down his very crooked nose, which had actually been broken by the boy before him on one occasion, his blue eyes boring into Herwald's emerald green silently, like two cat's trying to outstare the other "Then you were at Castle Einzbern?"

"I was with my family, Headmaster." Herwald countered firmly, yet politely "Where we chose to spend our holidays is, with all due respect, none of your business, and if you persist in this I'm afraid I'll have to accuse you of overstepping your bounds as Headmaster, which I'm afraid will mean suing you for invasion of privacy."

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall choked, her cry drowning out Snape's snort as the Gryffindor head stood before the boy with her hands on her hips "That is no way to speak to the Headmaster!"

"Thank you, Minerva." Dumbledore countered, raising a hand placatingly when the woman opened her mouth to protest, looking honestly amused with the boy's announcement "The boy is right, as humbling as it may seem, I AM technically overstepping my bounds as Headmaster." He looked at Herwald, and his eyes were serious "However, it is well within my rights to ensure my students are safe, whether that be at Hogwarts, or at home, so I am afraid you must bear with this invasion of your privacy, Harry, until we can ascertain that you are somewhere SAFE."

Herwald scowled, wanting nothing more than to march out of the room to spite the man, expulsion be damned, only to pull up short at the look in those blue eyes, devoid of their trademark twinkle. There was concern there, concern and a desire to act on those concerns, a desire to ensure that the person reflected in those eyes was safe from all wrongdoing.

Herwald had only seen eyes like that once before, when he awoke to see Shirou standing over him shortly after Gilgamesh kidnapped Illyasviel. The redhead had looked so relieved to see him alive he'd almost burst into tears.

"…My family lives in Japan." He muttered, earning looks of surprise, for different reasons, from the three teachers "We're close friends of the Guardian of the Land, who personally ensured the bounded field over the house couldn't be detected or breached by anyone bearing ill-will."

"I see…" Dumbledore mused, his moustache twitching in thought as he mulled over the information, McGonagall and Snape looking between the two in surprise, and with good reason. While Japan possessed Magi of its own, few ever travelled to the mainland for training, and fewer still European magi ever opted to visit the island nation, deeming it unimportant, and the locals backwater entrail-readers, if Quirrell's comments the previous year were any indication.

In short, it was the perfect place to hide the boy who had a semi-immortal, wraith-like Dark Lord after his ass. Voldemort rarely set foot outside the UK, the odds of him even suspecting Herwald was in Japan were slim to none.

"Is that all, sir?" Herwald demanded, his tone rather pointed, but then he WAS at the end of his patience and was rather looking forward to a nice-soft bed, even if it meant going without dinner.

"For now, Harry." Dumbledore conceded, his eyes twinkling at the boy "But rest assured we will be speaking of this regularly in future. There are more dangers out there than you realize, and it is my duty as Headmaster to ensure no harm comes to you." He smiled "However, I can promise the next time we speak, it will certainly be at a more convenient time, for both of us."

"Wunderbar." Herwald muttered, the adopted Einzbern shaking his head only to scowl as his treacherous stomach chose that moment to voice its displeasure at missing the feast "Can I go now?"

"Ah, but of course." Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling once more, "Severus, would you be so kind as to escort young Harry back to the feast, that is, if he's not too tired after all this? Minerva and I will be right along."

"Very well." Snape acknowledged, turning to Herwald with a curt nod "Come along, Mr. Potter." He insisted, Herwald rolling his eyes, knowing that the man was using his 'official' title simply because the headmaster was present "Hopefully your housemates have left something for you to nibble on."

"Knowing Vincent and Gregory's appetites I doubt it sir." Herwald joked, earning quirk of the lips from the hook-nosed Potion's Master as he followed the man out of McGonagall's office, down the corridors and back to the Great Hall, where he swiftly joined his fellow Slytherins, who were quick to welcome him back with questions and concerns, which Herwald answered as evasively as he could between mouthfuls of delicious food, only half listening as Dumbledore ran through the usual list of rules and regulations, before following his house mates down to the dungeons, into the Slytherin Common Room, heading straight for his bed for a well-deserved night's sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Rise and shine maggots!<em>

Unfortunately for Herwald, a night wasn't enough to silence the curiosity of Hogwarts' student body, and no sooner had he sat down at the table did he immediately come under the scrutiny of everyone in the hall, who wanted to know just what the Headmaster had wanted with the Boy-Who-Lived.

Some, mainly Gryffindors, believed the old man had warned him about possible expulsion, or had tried to get him to consider transferring to another house. The Hufflepuffs believed he merely wanted to make sure Herwald was alright, as the boy had a penchant for getting into trouble, last year's disaster with the False Stone being a prime example. The Ravenclaws, naturally, could care less, and were simply going along with the debates because such things were bread and butter to them. Quite frankly they could've cared less if the old man had tried to jump Herwald in the corridors wearing a thong.

'Bad mental image…' Herwald swore, turning slightly green, forgoing the fried foods in front of him in favour of a healthy bowl of porridge, seasoned with honey, while the Slytherins chatted amongst themselves, the serpents knowing full well the worst way to get information out of the Einzbern was to keep pestering him about it. Fortunately, they were further dissuaded from doing so as Professor Snape arrived, the Potion's Master handing out their schedules, Herwald quirking a brow at the sight of Defence Against the Dark Arts marked down for later that day.

"I wonder who the old man brought in to teach us THIS year…" he muttered, wishing he'd thought to look up at the staff table this morning, or last night even, as he made his way out of the hall towards his first class, Charms "Hopefully it's someone competent."

Unbeknownst to Herwald, the moment he said this, a certain blonde Fop sneezed, causing his scalding hot breakfast to spill into his lap.

Needless to say, that mornings DADA lesson was cancelled.

* * *

><p><em>Later that day...<em>

After a rather informative session in Charms, followed by Transfiguration and finally Herbology, where Herwald was pleasantly surprised to learn they'd be tending to Mandrakes, a rare magical plant that could kill with their screams, the Slytherins made their way to the Great Hall for Lunch, where Herwald failed to spot the new DADA Professor amongst the staff, making a note to ask about him when they bumped into Ron, Neville and Hermione on the way out.

"Did you hear?" Neville asked, the round-faced Gryffindor looking nervously at Crabbe and Goyle, as he couldn't help feeling intimidated by them "Apparently we'll be taking DADA together to make up for the Teacher missing out this morning."

"Honestly…" Draco muttered, the heir of house Malfoy shaking his head in annoyance at the revelation "Dumbledore's standards have gone way down, have you READ those Lockhart books?"

"I have." Herwald admitted, cutting off Hermione, who'd opened her mouth to give a sharp retort, the Gryffindor girl looking rather upset for some reason "They're very…informative…" he grimaced at how much the man seemed to love the sound of his own voice, even in print "Though he tends to ramble on."

"It's like reading a bloody diary…" Ron muttered, shaking his head in disgust "Honestly, I'll admit the bit where he fought off a werewolf that trapped him in a phelly-tone box was cool, but did we REALLY need to know he was calling his agent with Witches Weekly at the time?"

"It's Telephone Ron." Hermione sighed, shaking her head "And he was just setting the mood." She insisted, looking decidedly prim as she regarded the boys before her defiantly.

"I'd say being attacked by a werewolf would be setting the mood enough." Herwald muttered wryly, earning a blush from the girl as he shook his head "In any case, does anyone know exactly who our new DADA Professor is? What with everything that happened yesterday I never got around to asking."

"You mean you don't KNOW?" Hermione exclaimed, looking alarmed, as if the very idea was a class-A felony worthy of a Sealing Designation "How could you have missed it?"

"I was a little preoccupied being interrogated for most of the previous evening." Herwald replied dryly, earning another flush from the girl even as he turned his attention back to the others "So who is it?"

"You'll find out soon, we've got DADA after lunch." Ron muttered, looking annoyed while Hermione looked torn between wanting to surprise Herwald and wanting to spill the beans, LOUDLY.

Needless to say, Herwald was VERY intrigued by this point, and was eager to see just what kind of person the new DADA Professor was, only to pull up short as he felt a pair of eyes watching him, turning slowly to espy a small, mousy-haired boy staring at him as though transfixed, clutching what appeared to be an ordinary Muggle camera. The moment he realized the gig was up however, the preteen voyeur blushed a bright red and stepped into view.

"All right, Harry?" he asked breathlessly, as if he'd run a marathon "I'm…I'm Colin Creevey." he introduced, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too." He raised the camera hopefully "D'you think…would it be all right if…can I have a picture?" he finally managed to get out, only to flush at Herwald's quirked brow "So I can prove I've met you," he insisted eagerly, edging further forward "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead…"

Herwald grimaced as the boy went on, thankful that his bangs covered the damnable wound from view, even as he glared murderously at the others, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle snickering pointedly at his discomfort, even Hermione struggling to contain her giggles, though Ron seemed annoyed for some reason, and so was given a pass.

"My dad's a milkman," Collin revealed, earning a slight frown from Draco, as even a year with Herwald couldn't TOTALLY fix his opinions in regards to Muggleborns. He was getting better but it was a slow process "he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him and it'd be really good if I had one of you." he looked imploringly at the elder youth "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"Go on Herwald." Draco urged, his amusement at the situation easily winning over his inbred prejudice as he elbowed his friend in the side "Think of it as practice for when you have to deal with your fan club."

"What's all this, what's all this?" a voice called out, cutting off Herwald, who'd been about to snarl something foul in German at his so-called friend, the Einzbern turning to gape in disbelief at none other than Gilderoy Lockhart as the man strode toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

"Was zur Hölle are YOU doing here?" Herwald demanded, unable to help himself, unable, no, REFUSING to think for even a second that the work-shy-fop before him had any reason to be here expect perhaps for target practice.

"HM?" the man blinked, pulling up short, his eyes widening in alarm as they landed on the emerald-eyed boy, only for him to recover swiftly, breaking into a charming smile that didn't quite cover the nervousness in his jovial tone. "Ah, we meet again Harry!" he proclaimed loudly, though he took no further steps towards the boy-who-lived, a wise decision, as Herwald's right hand was twitching just from the sound of his voice "My it seems like only yesterday we met in Flourish and Blotts-!"

"I asked you a question, Scheißekopf." Herwald snapped, earning a look of surprise from Draco, the only one of the group with a passable mastery of German, and a look of affront, more for his tone, from Hermione "What are you doing here?"

"Yes, well, I suppose I never got to tell anyone after my little slip-up before." Lockhart stammered, rallying admirably as he struck a pose "I suppose it must have come as a shock to see me after our sudden parting, but Dumbledore, in his wisdom as Headmaster, offered me the position of DADA Professor," he spread his arms wide "and of course, I accepted!"

Herwald gaped, his brain unable to comprehend what it had just been told, only to turn on his heel, marching off, muttering unpleasant things in German that caused Draco's ears to turn pink.

"Poor boy's so moved he's embarrassed!" Lockhart preened, earning a look of wonderment from Hermione and disgust from everyone else "Ah it's such a pressure, being a role model…"

* * *

><p><em>One Germanic Tantrum Lay-ter...<em>

Needless to say, by the time DADA with the Gryffindors rolled around, Herwald was in a decidedly foul mood, his emerald eyes glinting like frozen gems as he sat at the back of the class, wanting to be as far away from Lockhart as possible without leaving the room.

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell, the blonde fop reaching forward and picking up Neville's copy of Travels with Trolls, holding it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he introduced, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award." He chuckled roguishly "but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly, though Herwald was disgusted to note most of the Gryffindor females seemed to be staring at him as if her were Adonis personified.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books." The man noted, looking decidedly pleased, and well he should, a single book alone cost more than the previous booklist put together "Well done, I thought we'd start today with a little quiz." He winked again at the looks of panic on their faces "Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in…"

'Oh honestly…' Herwald muttered, rolling his eyes in exasperation even as he watched the man hand out the test papers, sending him a decidedly chilly glare when he approached forcing the man to ask another student to pass the paper over 'Could he BE more obvious?'

"You have thirty minutes." Lockhart declared, having retreated to the front of the class to put some distance between Herwald and himself "You may start….now!"

Muttering to himself, Herwald turned over his test papers, took one look at the questions listed there, and promptly vowed to force-feed Dumbledore his own beard for forcing him to put up with this…this prima-donna!

'Like hell I'm answering any of these.' he muttered, setting the offending waste of paper on the desk and crossing his arms before him, instead devoting his attention to glaring at Lockhart, who began to fidget within a matter of moments, making every excuse to look anywhere but at the back of the class for the next half hour, after which he wisely asked for the papers to be handed up, rifling through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut, hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac." He reprimanded, rather like a nanny addressing a naughty infant than a teacher addressing a room full of juvenile wizards, most of which were QUITE capable of hexing his nose off "I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully — I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples," he winked roguishly "though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

Herwald rolled his eyes again, a sentiment that was shared by every Slytherin and the Gryffindor males, most of which were either struggling to restrain their laughter, or were staring at the man with abject disbelief. To Herwald's disgust, Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindor girls were listening to Lockhart with rapt attention, the bushy haired girl giving a start when he mentioned her name.

"But Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions." The fop declared, smiling brilliantly "Good girl! In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?" he beamed as she raised a trembling hand "Excellent! Most excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And now, to business…"

Herwald was rather disappointed that the fop hadn't called him out on his blatant refusal to accommodate his ego, he actually had a nice retort planned out that would've browbeaten the man into a concussion. Instead, Lockhart bent down behind his desk, lifting out, with some strain Herwald was pleased to note, a large cage covered with a sheet.

"Now be warned!" the fop declared dramatically, raising a finger to his lips whilst winking roguishly at the class "It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind!"

'Unless you've got Kotomine Kirei's reanimated corpse stuffed in there I highly doubt it.' Herwald muttered, smirking slightly at the image of the foulest creature he had knowledge of being stuffed into something the size of a rabbit cage. The image was rather ruined, therefore, when Lockhart whipped off the cover, revealing the contents of the cage for all to see.

"Freshly caught Cornish pixies." The fop declared dramatically, smiling at the group, only to blink as Herwald, completely thrown by the revelation, fell out of his chair, one leg twitching spasmodically "Nothing to be sacred of Harry! It's perfectly safe!"

"Of all zur dämlich, over-dramatichen…" Herwald muttered, the Slytherins quirking their brows as the boy's accent worsened, knowing he only reverted to German when pushed too far "Of all zur things you could have brought, you picked something an untrained CHILD could deal with?"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Well of course." Lockhart noted, smiling at the boy-who-lived charmingly, though it didn't quite match his eyes, which were torn between nervous and annoyed "I'd hardly bring something like a Yeti, now would I?"

"Considering the fact a Troll broke into the dungeons last year I don't think one of their hairy cousins would cause undue distress." Herwald countered, earning a look of surprise from the man, as he clearly hadn't been briefed on what had happened the previous year "There is a fly on your nose, Herr Lockhart."

Lockhart went cross-eyed for a moment, frowning as he tried to spot the annoying pest that had alighted on his precious schnozz, only to find nothing there, looking up to see Herwald had resumed his seat, the boy smirking at the gullible fool in silent victory. "Ahem, yes well…" he stammered, averting his eyes from those unsettling emerald orbs once more, the smile on his face now rather strained as he wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief "Don't let their harmless appearance fool you!" he countered, waggling a finger annoyingly at the class "Pixies are known to be devilishly tricky little blighters!" he smiled, and Herwald swore he saw a gleam of wickedness in his eyes as he reached for the latch "Right, then, let's see what you make of them!"

Herwald swore, his wand slipping into his left hand the minute the cage was opened, a good thing too, as no sooner had the dumkopf stepped back did the pixies rush out, flying in every direction like rockets. Two of them bore down on Neville, only to be driven off by a pair of brutally accurate stunners that sent them reeling backwards, the round-faced boy sending a thanks before whipping out his own wand, ducking for cover as the rest of the beasts made a shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass.

While their brethren made a bid for freedom, the rest of the Pixies proceeded to wreck the classroom almost as effectively as Taiga on a rampage, grabbing ink bottles and spraying the class with their contents, shredding those textbooks and papers unfortunate enough to be out in the open, tearing Lockhart's pictures from the walls, up-ending the waste basket, grabbing book bags and hurling them out of the smashed window, all in the space of a few minutes.

It was, in short, absolute pandemonium, half the class joining Neville in sheltering under desks, while the rest tried to fend off their attackers as best they could, Crabbe and Goyle swatting them out of their air with their massive fists, while Draco and a few others hurled curses, magical and otherwise, at the pests.

"Come on now." Lockhart shouted over the din, looking like he was rather enjoying their plight as he clapped his hands in that pompous way designed to give the impression of superiority "Round them up, round them up, they're only pixies." He sighed as two of them grabbed the hem of a Slytherin Girl's robes and pulled it up over her head, causing her to screech in fury "Watch! It's easy!" he declared, rolling up his sleeves and brandishing his wand with a bellow of "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

If the butchered attempt at Latin had meant to do anything, it didn't, unless Lockhart INTENDED for one of the cackling little bastards to seize his wand right out of his hand and hurl it out the window, the fop swallowing nervously before diving under his own desk. By this point, Herwald had seen more than enough, the Einzbern using his desk as a springboard to leap up and grab the iron chandelier, an emerald flash and a woman's scream heralding the activation of his arrays, which broke the fixture down and reshaped it even as he dropped, the Einzbern whipping round the moment he touched down, a fresh set or iron throwing knives at his disposal, the molecule-thick projectiles flying expertly through the air, the Pixies screams of agony as the poisonous (to them) metal pierced their fragile bodies like a siren's call to the already annoyed Einzbern.

Within seconds, all the Pixies were pinned to the walls like some macabre Lepidopteral nightmare, the rest of the class looking on in wonder as Herwald dusted off his hands, sending an annoyed glare at Lockhart as he peeked over the edge of his desk.

"Shall I mark that up as extra credit, Herr Lockhart?" Herwald asked drolly, his smile cold as the bell rang, the adopted Einzbern not even waiting for a reply as he picked up his book bag, which had survived untouched, and swept out of the classroom without looking back.

* * *

><p>Herwald 2, Lockhart...actually it's so low I can't even put it into words, somewhere below the squre route of pie<p>

Heavy: Pie is good!

Spy: Indeed it is, my corpulant friend.

Kyugan: Wrong type of pie, but I must agree that pie is good.

Piro: Mhmmhmm *Comes in with a freshly baked pie*

Heavy: Khorosho!

Kyugan: Indeed, in any case, a little short, but I think we can make do for now.


	5. Chapter 5 The Deathday Party

A Slight Re-write to incorporate the current data regarding a certain knight.

Heavy: *Eating Pie* Omnomnomnom...

Spy: *Wiping lips with napkin* Piro, you have outdone yourself.

Piro: Mmhmmhmm...

Kyugan: Seriously, the pastry's so soft, how'd you get it so soft?

Piro: Mhmmmhmmhmm...

Kyugan: Family Recipe? I understand, My Granny's the same with her Apple Crumble...mmm, apple crumble...*homer gargle*

Piro: eugh...*scoots away from Kyugan*...merde that's disturbing...in any case, ze wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what zis latest continuum shift has wrought, nes pas?

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5: The Deathday Party.<span>

Needless to say, Herwald's show of skill, and convolutely Lockhart's lack of it, in the DADA classroom soon spread, as was wont amongst the student grapevine, which didn't exactly go a long way towards endearing the professor to the rest of the students, whilst cementing Herwald's position as someone not to be crossed.

However, it seemed Lockhart was either hard of hearing or simply lacked the survival skills of a clinically depressed lemming, as he seemed to make it his life's mission to stalk Herwald through the corridors, under the pretence of giving his fellow 'celebrity' advice. However, thanks in part to his friendship with the Weasley twins, Herwald knew the hidden passages of the castle better than most other students. Combined with the Potter Ring's gift of invisibility, and the Einzbern youth was able to literally run rings around the fop.

Harder to avoid was Colin Creevey, the little Gryffindor having seemingly memorized Herwald's schedule, and nothing seemed to give the lion cub a bigger thrill than to suddenly ask "All right, Harry?" six or seven times a day, except perhaps how Herwald, no matter which direction he was facing, seemed to be able to detect the boy before he even opened his mouth, the Einzbern usually greeting the boy with an exasperated "Hello, Colin." which only made him smile wider.

And then there was the girl, that damnably worrisome, mousy-haired Fraulein that seemed to be the only other person that could see the demonic horses that pulled the Hogwarts Carriages. Every time Herwald thought he'd forgotten about her, there she was staring at him from over the rim of her magazine, which she was always reading upside down for whatever reason, or simply smiling airily at him as they passed one another in the corridor.

They never spoke, differences in houses aside, she was a First year, and it was generally accepted that there was to be little to no fraternizing outside one's own year, especially outside one's own house. However, that didn't stop her from making the adopted Einzbern feel self-conscious every time he averted his emerald eyes from her airy, yet somehow fathomless stare.

In short, Herwald was rather glad when the weekend rolled around, by the time the weekend rolled round, having decided to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning with Ron, Neville and Hermione. He was thinking of inviting Draco, Crabbe and Goyle along, but his fellow Slytherins had apparently been accepted onto the house Quidditch team, something about Draco's father making donations, Herwald wasn't entirely sure as he'd only half been paying attention, as Quidditch really wasn't his thing.

In either case, after making his excuses not to accompany the team to the pitch, as it was technically verboten for anyone but players to be there without Madam Hooch to supervise them, sabotage was part of the game after all, he made his way to the entrance hall, meeting up with his Gryffindor friends before making his way down the grounds towards Hagrid's hut. They were within twenty feet of the door when it swung open, Herwald letting out a curse and activating the Potter Ring scant seconds before Gilderoy Lockhart emerged, the fop's mauve robes flowing dramatically, or attempting to, as he strode out of the hut.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" he declared, smiling at Hagrid, who despite his amicable nature seemed rather eager to see the fop off his property "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one."

'I'm not.' Herwald muttered, snorting in disdain as he watched the fop march off, pausing only to greet the Gryffindors, earning a heartfelt sigh from Hermione as he flounced off, the Einzbern waiting until he was well and truly out of sight before deactivating the Potter Ring's enchantment, popping right back into view and knocking on Hagrid's door, only to quirk a brow at the annoyed look on the half-giant's bearded face. Understandable really, considering whose company he'd just escaped from.

"Oh, Harry." Hagrid greeted, brightening at once when he saw who he was glaring at "Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me." He admitted, gesturing for them to enter "Come in, come in, thought you might'a bin Professor Lockhart back again…"

"Heaven forbid…" Herwald muttered, sharing a snort of amusement with his fellow males, while Hermione huffed disapprovingly, the four of them filing in, Hagrid shutting and BOLTING the front door, clearly not taking any chances where a certain work-shy fop was concerned, before bustling around to make the tea. "And how are you, Fang?" Herwald greeted, smiling as he knelt down to pet Hagrid's massive boarhound, the deceptively intimidating canine's tail wagging eagerly as the Einzbern's nimble hands found all the right places.

"So what did Professor Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Neville asked, looking on in wonderment as Herwald actually got Fang to roll onto his back like a puppy, unable to believe just how good with dogs his friend was.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well." Hagrid growled, the half-giant sweeping a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot with decidedly more force than was necessary "As if I didn' know myself. An' he kept bangin' on about some banshee he banished. I swear if one word of that tripe was true, I'll eat my kettle."

"Now, now Hagrid, no need to be so hasty." Herwald countered, earning looks of surprise from the males, and a grateful smile from Hermione "After all, why waste a perfectly good kettle?"

"I think you're being a bit unfair." Hermione countered over the sniggers of Ron and Neville and Hagrid's deafening guffaws, the girl's voice somewhat higher than usual Herwald was intrigued to note "Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job…"

"He was the _on'y _man for the job." Hagrid countered, the groundskeeper wiping tears of amusement from his black-beetle eyes as he offered the students a plate of treacle fudge "An' I mean the_on'y _one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see." He leaned forward conspiratorially "They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now."

Herwald said nothing, though he DID frown at the revelation. After all, curses were some of the oldest forms of magic around, the ancient Magi, before they'd called themselves such, had used them both to ward off ill omens and to summon them to destroy their enemies. It wasn't uncommon for someone to place a curse on a title or some other mantle of authority, in order to bring the possessor ruin.

It wouldn't be unfounded, therefore, for someone to place a curse on the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, indeed, it seemed deliciously ironic. Herwald would have probably done it himself if Lockhart managed to survive the year, that is if he ever managed to get his jaw unclenched, as he'd rather forgotten that when it came to cooking, Hagrid tended to forget not everyone's jaws were as powerful as his. His treacle fudge alone could've been used to hold bricks together.

"By the way Harry." The Half-giant spoke up abruptly, as though struck by a sudden thought, turning to face the Einzbern with a scowl "I gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Had Herwald's jaws not been effectively cemented shut by the groundskeeper's treacle fudge, he'd have cursed his friend, Lockhart, Dumbledore and the entirety of Hogwarts in every language he knew. As it were, he instead settled for glaring at the Half-giant, only to relent when the latter burst out laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'." Hagrid assured the youth, patting Herwald genially on the back and sending him face first into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Not by choice I assure you." Herwald muttered, the blow having forced his teeth apart, the boy-who-lived idly wondering how Lockhart had reacted to Hagrid's jab and smiling as his imagination went to work "I take it he didn't take that well?"

"Don' think he did." Hagrid replied pleasantly, his black beetle eyes twinkling mischievously, as if savouring the memory "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go."

* * *

><p><em>Hoh! That slaps me on the knee!<em>

Herwald resolved to buy Hagrid another keg of Einzbern's finest mead for Christmas this year; it was worth it to imagine the look of impotent fury that must've crossed Lockhart's face. True, he didn't really put much stock by the whole 'Boy who lived' thing, in truth, he wisely suspected the Potters, or an unknown Third Party, had dealt the final blow to Voldemort eleven years ago. However, it was times like this when he acknowledged the unwanted fame had its uses.

"Come an' see what I've bin growin'." Hagrid asked once they'd finished their tea, leading the quartet out of the house towards the small vegetable patch at the back, where a dozen of the largest pumpkins Herwald had ever seen rested; each was the size of a large boulder. "Gettin' on well, aren't they?" Hagrid noted happily "Fer the Halloween feast…should be big enough by then."

"What in the world have you been feeding them?" Neville asked, the herbology expert of the group looking on in wonderment, missing the suddenly shifty look in Hagrid's eyes, though Herwald caught him glancing over his shoulder to where the half-giant's flowery pink umbrella was leaning against the back wall of the cabin.

Now Herwald had heard all the rumours, how Hagrid had been expelled in third year for bringing some dangerous beast into the castle, all too believable really, and as such had his wand snapped by the Minister of Magic, as was the custom. However, there was no way that the pumpkins had gotten that large without an engorgement charm, and judging by the shifty look on Hagrid's face as he glanced at the umbrella, the half-giant had probably concealed his old school wand inside it.

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" Hermione noted, halfway between disapproval and amusement as she glanced at their giant friend "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said." Hagrid noted, nodding at Ron "Met her jus' yesterday." He revealed, only for his beard to twitch as he glanced sideways at Herwald "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." He winked "If yeh ask me, _she _wouldn' say no ter a signed-"

"Hagrid." Herwald spoke up, his tone calm, composed, and yet all the more unnerving because of it even as he continued to admire the pumpkins "Finish that sentence and I will be forced to do something I will sadly regret."

Hagrid's mouth clapped shut, though that didn't stop the others from sniggering, not even Herwald's warning glares getting them to abate for long as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch. However, just as he was about to split with the Gryffindors and make his way to the Slytherin table, he heard a voice, a low, hissing voice that was nonetheless louder than anything in the great hall, a voice like breathtaking, ice-cold venom.

_"Come… come to me…" _it hissed, coldly, invitingly_ "Let me rip you...Let me tear you...Let me KILL you…"_

Herwald whipped round, his right hand raised to grab whatever was sneaking up behind him and reduce it to its base elements, only to pull up short as a startled Collin Creevey backed away from him, his camera held up between them. "Um…alright Harry?" the young Lion stammered, a nervous smile on his face, "Sorry if I startled you."

"Colin…" Herwald greeted, blinking dumbly at the boy, as if seeing him for the first time, lowering his arm and regaining his composure "Sorry, long day…did you hear anything just now?"

"Not really." Collin countered, frowning slightly as he tried to think of anything that might have unnerved 'The Great Harry Potter' so "You seemed to be a little lost so I thought I'd ask what was wrong."

"Nothing, never mind." Herwald assured him, making his way towards the Slytherin table, grateful that his sudden lack of composure hadn't drawn any unwanted attention. As he took his seat however, his eyes briefly met the protuberant pair of the damned Ravenclaw First year, who smiled dreamily at him, as always, before turning her attention back to her magazine, which was once again upside down "Scheiße…"

* * *

><p><em>One month lay-ter!<em>

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students, dishing out doses of Pepperup potion that caused smoke to trail from the user's ears for several hours afterward. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end, causing the lake to rise and the flower beds to be reduced to muddy streams.

The only ones to truly benefit were Hagrid's pumpkins, which swelled to the size of garden sheds, and the Quidditch captains, as Flint seemed to delight in driving his team down to the pitch come rain or hail, Herwald usually sitting up in the Slytherin common room, waiting for Draco, Crabbe and Goyle to come trudging in, drenched to the skin and spattered with mud, much to Draco's horror.

During one such afternoon, Herwald was making his way back to the common room, having just come from a study session in the library with Hermione, Ron and Neville, when came across one of the Hogwarts ghosts, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, otherwise known as Nearly-Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor tower and counterpart to Slytherin's own Bloody Baron. "Guten Tag, Sir Nicholas." He greeted, using the Ghost's official title, as the Baron had instructed all the First years that to do anything LESS was an insult "Miserable weather isn't it?"

"Hm? Oh! Hello, hello." The ghost greeted, starting slightly at being caught off guard and looking round. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair, and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed. "You're Herwald von Einzbern, correct? The Baron speaks most highly of you. How do you do?"

"Well, thank you." Herwald returned, quirking a brow at the ghost's expression "Though if I may be so bold, you seem troubled, Sir Nicholas."

"Ah," the ghost muttered, waving an elegant hand dismissively "a matter of no importance…" he frowned, and despite his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face "It's not as though I really wanted to join… Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfil requirements'…But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"I can honestly say I have no idea." Herwald admitted, a little unnerved by the Ghost's passionate display, and his casual talk of beheading.

"I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly." Sir Nicholas declared "I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However…" he shook his letter open and read furiously:

_"'We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfil our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"_

"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on!" the Gryffindor Ghost fumed as he stuffed the letter away "Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough for Sir 'Properly Decapitated' Podmore."

Herwald said nothing, simply stood back and waited for the clearly incensed ghost to regain his composure, which was admittedly not that hard really. According to the Baron, it was VERY hard for ghosts, with notable exceptions, to hold onto any emotion for very long after their deaths. Apparently they were all left behind in the body, something about glands.

"My condolences, Sir Nicholas." He offered, once he was certain the spectral Knight wasn't about to start throwing ectoplasm all over the place "I'm sure the Hunt must be an amazing experience, if there were anything I could do to help I'd be sure to recommend it."

"Not at all young Einzbern." Sir Nicholas began, only to pause briefly "But there _is _something you could do for me." He began excitedly "I was actually going to ask the Baron to pass my invitation along, but since you're here I may as well ask: would you care to attend my Deathday Party?" he smiled at Herwald's look of intrigue "You see, this Halloween will be my five hundredth Deathday." He drew himself up and looked dignified "And I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honour if you would attend. You may bring some friends of course," he paused uncertainly "but I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?"

"I don't see any reason to refuse." Herwald noted after a moment's thought, the ghost's helpless expression seeming to tug on his heartstrings despite his otherwise iron-clad control "I'll see if my friends can come, but I must ask, will there be refreshments? Pardon my saying so, but I don't recall food being high on a ghost's priorities.

"Never fear my dear boy!" Sir Nicholas insisted, beaming brightly as he clapped a hand on Herwald's shoulder, sending an icy chill through the Einzbern "I'll speak with the house elves and have them whip something up for you." He smiled brightly "To think, Harry Potter, at my Deathday party!" he exclaimed, smiling apologetically at Herwald's quirked brow "Do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me?"

"Of course," said Herwald offered, crossing his fingers inside the sleeves of his robes, as compared to some of things he'd seen, a partially decapitated ghost didn't even register on his 'freak-out' meter. Berserker when he was CALM could inspire a type of gut-wrenching terror that had caused grown men to soil themselves just from LOOKING at him, at the very most the Hogwarts' ghosts inspired casual interest, with the exception of Peeves the poltergeist, whom Herwald had vowed to exorcise in a thoroughly painful manner before he graduated.

* * *

><p><em>Cut-scene!<em>

"A Deathday party?" Draco repeated, the Malfoy heir quirking a brow as he sat across from Herwald, the group having finally managed to get together for a joint study session in the Library.

"I think it sounds interesting!" Hermione insisted keenly, looking up from helping Ron with his Potion's homework, as the redhead was too stubborn to ask Draco for help "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those, it'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" Ron muttered grumpily, sounding suspicious of the whole idea "Sounds dead depressing to me."

"On that matter I will agree with you, Weasley." Draco scoffed, shaking his head in bemusement as he eyed Herwald "Still, you DO move in bizarre circles Herwald, I suppose attending a Deathday Party wouldn't be too unusual for you."

"Second nature really." Herwald joked, smiling at their looks of confusion "However, a promise is a promise." He reminded his friends "Come if you will, Sir Nicholas did say I could invite friends."

"Count me in." Hermione insisted, huffing slightly at the looks of amazement she was getting from Neville and Ron "Oh honestly, think about it, we might run into some famous ghosts down there, possibly even the Hogwarts founders!"

"I think the Baron would've told us if Salazar Slytherin was haunting the dungeons, Granger." Draco countered, though he DID look intrigued at the idea of meeting famous ghosts. After all, the Hogwarts Ghosts were all former students themselves that had drifted back to their old school after death. Who knew what other wizards and witches from days long gone would be there that night?

So at seven o'clock, while the rest of the castle made their way to the Feast, Herwald, Ron, Draco, Neville and Hermione made their way to the dungeons, Crabbe and Goyle having opted to stay behind, as dealing with the Baron was bad enough, but a room full of unknown ghosts would be unbearable.

The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, though the effect was less cheerful and more ominous, long, thin, jet-black tapers burned with bright blue flames, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took, Herwald glad he'd thought ahead and swiped a few doses of pepper-up potion from the hospital wing, while a sound like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard echoed all around them.

"Is that supposed to be _music_?" Ron whispered, looking decidedly unnerved as they turned a corner, only to come face to see-through face with Sir Nicholas, standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends." the Gryffindor ghost greeted mournfully, though his eyes twinkled with delight at the sight of Herwald, sweeping off his plumed hat and bowing them inside. "Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come…"

It was an incredible sight, the dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.

In short, it was rather like being back in the Einzbern Ancestral Castle during winter, a fact that was equal parts comforting and disconcerting to the adopted Einzbern. "Shall we have a look around?" He suggested, completely at ease thanks to the pepper up potion warming his insides "Get to know the feel of the place?"

"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Ron nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, the cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Herwald spotted the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, being given a wide berth by the other ghosts, and offered him a polite, respectful nod, which the Baron returned.

"Oh, no," Hermione exclaimed, stopping abruptly and plain slightly despite the potion causing her to flush "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle…She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor."

"She haunts a _toilet_?" Draco repeated, the Malfoy Heir looking at the bushy haired girl in exasperation, as if half hoping she was joking, only to blink at the embarrassed honesty in her eyes.

"Yes. It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place." Hermione sighed "I never went in there if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you..."

"I can imagine…" Herwald muttered weakly, the males shivering collectively at the image of looking down while relieving themselves, only to see someone's HEAD looking up at them from the bowl. The moment was ruined, thankfully, when Ron to let out a triumphant yell as he espied the buffet table on the other end of the dungeon, the redhead charging headlong towards it, the other following in his wake.

Surprisingly, there was quite a nice spread laid out for them, and Herwald suspected the Castle's House Elves had outdone themselves for the simple fact HE was there, yet another reason to be glad for his unwanted fame, though the effect was a little ruined by the smell of the food set aside for the ghosts, which was in various stages of decay, the centrepiece an enormous grey cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words: SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON. DIED, 31st OCTOBER, 1492.

As Herwald looked on, idly munching on a chicken leg, a portly ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon. "Can you taste it if you walk though it?"

"Almost…" the ghost admitted sadly, casting a whimsical look towards Ron, who was stuffing his face without a care in the world, before drifting away.

"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavour," said Hermione knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis even as Draco slapped Ron upside the head for his lack of tact, the redhead rounding on the Slytherin just as a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in mid-air before them.

"Peeves." Herwald greeted, swearing murderously in German at the sight of the Poltergeist, who unlike the rest of the silvery ghosts was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face.

"Nibbles?" the phantom menace asked sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus, which they refused "Heard you talking about poor Myrtle." He noted to Hermione, his eyes dancing while hers widened "_Rude _you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and bellowed, "OY! MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset." Hermione whispered frantically, looking mortified "I didn't mean it, I don't mind her…" she trailed off as a squat ghost of a girl in school robes glided over, her lanky hair and pearly white spectacles hiding one of the glummest faces Herwald had ever seen "Er…hello Myrtle." Hermione greeted nervously her vopice high and falsely sweet "How are you? It's nice to see you out of the toilet."

"Miss Granger was just talking about you." Peeves whispered slyly in Myrtle's ear, waggling his eyebrows annoyingly at the distraught girl "Just saying…"

"Why hello there, Baron." Herwald greeted, smiling coldly as Peeves' back went ramrod straight, the poltergeist whipping round to see the Bloody Baron floating nearby "Dreadful weather this week, hasn't it?"

"Indeed…" the Baron intoned, his eyes roaming over Peeves suspiciously, the poltergeist nervously playing with his collar while Myrtle made herself scarce, apparently sharing the rest of the gathering's fear of the noble "I trust Peeves hasn't been bothering you, Einzbern?"

"He was just leaving, actually." Herwald lied, emerald eyes glinting as he smiled coldly at the Poltergeist, who shot him a glare promising vengeance while looking nervously at the Baron "Weren't you, Peeves?"

"Just so, Baron…" Peeves simpered, glaring hatefully at the boy as he drifted off, muttering curses under his breath, the Baron nodding politely to the group before floating off to intimidate several other ghosts, leaving the group on their own.

"Bloody hell mate…" Ron muttered, shivering despite the pepper-up potion coursing through his veins from having to endure the Baron's spectral stare for as long as he had "I don't see how you can speak to that bloke like it's nothing…"

Herwald was about to voice a reply when he froze, his emerald eyes widening as, despite all odds, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. 'It can't be!' he exclaimed, moving forwards, ignoring the voices of his friends and the mild outcries from the ghosts he unwittingly passed through as he moved towards the figure 'She can't be here! Of all places!'

"ARTURIA!" he called out, reaching out desperately to the small, taller than him at least, figure as it was about to pass through the wall, clearly having enough of the party, only to pull up short at his beckoning and turn to face him

There she stood, her emerald eyes faded to a light silver as a ghost, her long blonde hair, now a gleaming off-white, done up in her traditional braid at the back of her head, her armour worn and dented from some great battle, stained with silvery blood, as it must have been during the battle of Camlann, from whence she was carried by Sir Bedivere, just before she made her pledge with the world.

"Where did you hear that name?" the vision demanded, Herwald's eyes widening in alarm, for while the voice that emerged from that familiar face was eerily similar to Saber's, it clearly wasn't the King of Knights "Answer me boy, from where did you hear that name?"

* * *

><p>And I'll leave off there...<p>

As some of you may or may not know, Type-Moon has recently announced that Fate: Apocrypha is getting an official series of Novels, and as such Mordred, who up until know was MALE, is now the FEMALE clone/son/offspring of Arturia and Morgan, and has been designated Saber of Red in accordance with the rules of that series.

Please do not confuse her with Red Saber, aka Emperor Nero. She WILL beat you to death for it.

Spy: *readies dead Ringer* Worth it.

Kyugan: In any case, expect a few small alterations as we go along. And who knows, this may play a role down the line.


	6. Chapter 6 The Chamber of Secrets

More edits to incorporate Mordred's new Gender.

Spy: I guess the rumours are true...

Kyugan: What Rumours?

Pyro: Mmhmmhmm...

Spy: Indeed monster...The Harem Must Be Fed.

Kyugan: Dear Lord I forgot about that...In any case, the wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what change this continuum shift has wrought!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6: The Chamber of Secrets.<span>

"You're…not Sabre…" Herwald noted, the Einzbern youth kicking himself for the slip, even as he backed away from the silvery figure warily.

While the figure before him resembled the King of Knights, eerily so, right down to the weird, dress-like outfit she wore under her armour, there were several differences, the most telling being that whereas only a truly blind man could have confused Arturia for a man, even WITH her armour, THIS Knight's armour did a much better job of concealing her frame. Also absent was the King of Knight's trademark cowlick, or as Rin teasingly referred to it, her 'ahoge', though the look of suspicious anger on the ghosts face was so reminiscent of Arturia's own it was truly hard to tell her apart from the King of Knights.

"Answer me!" the ghost demanded, stepping out of the wall, sword in hand, and Herwald, despite knowing Ghosts couldn't harm the living, physically anyway, couldn't help backing up a step "How is it you know my face? From whence did you learn that name? No-one should know that name!"

"The question is, who are YOU?" Herwald countered, glaring at the spirit defiantly "Why is it you resemble Arturia so hauntingly?" he winced at the bad pun "And how do YOU know of her true name? Only those closest to the King of Knights knew of her true gender." He frowned suspiciously "Are you, perhaps, of the Round?"

The Knight's eyes flared, only to dim, her anger giving way to bottomless sorrow as she lowered her phantasmal weapon "Nay, I do not deserve to be known by that title…a traitor such as me does not deserve to sully the name of those loyal to the King…"

"Then you were one of the Knights that faced their King on the fields of Camlann." Herwald noted, his tone calm, though laced with intrigue, even as the rest of his friends pulled up behind him, eyeing the ghost curiously.

"T'was not meant to be a battle!" the Knight despaired, her face wrought with anguish as her eyes gazed back, no doubt seeing that blood-soaked hill "We had met to discuss peace terms, for no Knight wished to face their King, but some fool saw a snake in the grass and drew his sword." She lowered her head in shame "Before we could stop the rest, battle was upon us, and so Knight fought Knight, Friend fought Friend, Brother fought Brother and Fools made Fools of us all."

The students blinked, Ron, Neville and Draco in confusion, though Hermione seemed moved almost to tears by the young Knight's story. It was understandable really, for while Merlin was as iconic a being to Magical Britain as King Arthur was to the rest of the world, the rest of the Knights were just as well known.

"Who were you?" Herwald asked, unable to help himself, as it was considered rude to ask a ghost to speak of their past lives, even though he had a sinking suspicion he knew who this particular knight was. After all, there was only one way she could resemble Arturia, and only one way she could have knowledge of what truly occurred on that bloody hill.

The ghost did not answer, instead turning shamefacedly away and walking through the wall, just as Sir Nicholas drifted toward them through the crowd with a smile. "Enjoying yourselves?" he asked, missing the look of annoyance on Herwald's face as he glanced around "Not a bad turnout, the Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent…" he smiled proudly "It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra…" he began only to frown as the orchestra stopped playing at that very moment, the rest of the dungeon following suit, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, here we go…" Sir Nicholas muttered bitterly just as a dozen spectral horses burst through the dungeon wall, each ridden by a headless horseman, the assembled ghosts clapping wildly at the sight, Ron and Neville moving to do the same, only for Herwald to stop them, gesturing to the look of anger on Sir Nicholas' face.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. He leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd, to the amusement of the guests, and strode over to Sir Nicholas, squashing his head back onto his neck as he went "Nick!" he roared, letting out a hearty guffaw for a man with no pulse, clapping the annoyed ghost on the shoulder "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

"Welcome, Patrick." Sir Nicholas greeted stiffly, his voice about as welcoming as Antarctica during the ice-age, and about as warm, though if the Dullahan noted, he gave no indication, instead turning his attention to the Students behind the Gryffindor ghost, giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again, to the amusement of the crowd though not to their host "Very amusing."

"Don't mind Nick!" Sir Patrick's head shouted at the students from the floor "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt!" he frowned good-naturedly at the Gryffindor ghost as he picked his head off the floor "But I mean to say, look at the fellow!"

"I fail to see the problem." Herwald replied calmly, earning a look from the Dullahan and several members of the party "As I understand it, the only requirement to join the hunt is to have died via beheading, correct?" at the ghost's frown he continued "I'd say the fact it took forty-five times before they could manage it simply spoke of Sir Nicholas' fortitude in life, he simply wouldn't go down easy."

* * *

><p><em>SERVED!<em>

Silent mutters arose from the crowd, some of them admirable, the spectre of Sir Patrick looking decidedly uncomfortable while Sir Nicholas seemed to swell with pride, her certainly wasn't swelling with air, not needing to breath. "If I could have everyone's attention?" The ghost called out "It's time for my speech!" he declared, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight and clearing his throat, more out of habit really "My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow…"

But Herwald was already moving, not wanting to lose the ghost of the knight that bore Sabre's face, the Einzbern youth making his way towards the exit whilst keeping the Knight's position in his mind, the others following suit behind him.

"Glad to be out of there…" Ron muttered, teeth chattering despite the chill as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor "Who was that ghost you were talking to mate?"

"Honestly Ron, weren't you paying attention?" Hermione huffed, shaking her head in exasperation even as the redhead flushed, not entirely from the potion he'd consumed either, even as she turned to Herwald, her eyes flashing with curiosity "Do you really think he was a member of the Round Table, Herwald?"

"She, and of that I've little doubt." Herwald muttered, even as the others' eyes widened at the revelation of the Knight's gender "She spoke of the battle of Camlann, and judging by her shame, she was on the side of those who turned against the King."

"Blimey…" Ron muttered, even Neville and Draco looking thrown by the revelation, and for good reason, as any Pureblood Wizard new of the Knights of the Round, as Merlin played a key role in several of their adventures. By now the group had backtracked to the passageway full of black candles, and Herwald was trying to recall just which direction the ghost had escaped in when he heard it.

"… _rip_… _tear_… _kill_…"

It was the same cold, murderous voice he had heard the other day, the Einzbern's back freezing as he whipped his head around, listening with all his might, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway for the source. "Herwald?" Draco asked, looking alarmed by his friend's sudden actions, and rightfully so, as you never knew just what you'd run into in a dungeon "What's wrong?"

"… _so hungry_…" the voice hissed, Herwald's brow furrowing at the almost serpentine quality that made his blood run cold "…_for so long_…"

"Can't you HEAR that?" he demanded urgently, the others looking at one another in confusion, and in Hermione's case, concern, Herwald ignoring it as he turned his head in the direction of the voice's echo.

"… _kill_… _time to kill_…"

The voice was growing fainter, but by that point Herwald had already ascertained where the source was heading, and was already racing after it, the spectral Knight temporarily forgotten as he moved ever upwards, a mixture of fear and excitement gripping the Einzbern youth despite himself.

"This way!" he shouted, racing up the stairs and into the entrance hall, cursing as the noise coming from the Great Hall, where the Halloween Feast was still going strong apparently, made listening for the voice impossible, Herwald relying on memory of it's last heading to lead him up the marble staircase to the first floor, the other's clattering behind him at a run.

"Herwald what the devil is the matter with you?" Draco yelled, looking flushed but hardly breathless, unlike poor Neville, who was trailing from the rear.

"Shut up for a second!" Herwald hissed, straining his ears, having heard something distantly from the floor above, something that was growing fainter still even as he moved towards it.

"… _I smell blood_…" the voice hissed, eagerness in those cold, murderous tones that reminded Herwald all to well of Grandfather Jubstacheit, which was NOT a pleasant comparison by any margin "_I SMELL BLOOD_!"

"Scheiße! It's going to kill someone!" Herwald shouted, ignoring the others' bewildered faces as he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps and the pants of the others just behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Harry, _what _was that all about?" Ron demanded, the redhead using Herwald's old name to show just how vexed he was, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything…"

"LOOK!" Hermione gasped suddenly, the bushy-haired girl's hand clamped over her mouth, the other pointing down the corridor, where something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED._

_ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE!_

* * *

><p><em>Castle stairway...<em>

"Was zur Hölle?" Herwald breathed, blinking at the sight before him, almost unwilling to break the silence that the words seemed to summon by their mere presence.

"It can't be…" Draco whispered, his features paler than normal as he stared at the wall "It can't be real, who would be able to-?"

"What's that thing…hanging underneath?" Ron asked, cutting off Herwald's own question, a slight quiver in the redhead's voice as he pointed to a small bundle lying on the ground beneath the words.

They edged nearer, Herwald's hand lashing out to grab Neville's arm, the boy having slipped on the large puddle of water on the floor, the round-faced boy thanking his friend while Ron and Hermione inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it, only to leap back with a splash.

"It's Mrs. Norris." Hermione breathed, and sure enough the caretaker's cat, which Herwald had once drop-kicked to distract Filch, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket, stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

"Let's get out of here." Ron muttered, the Redhead's freckles standing out against his unnaturally pale skin as he backed away from the gruesome sight.

"Shouldn't we try and help?" Neville asked awkwardly, though he too was already moving to put some distance between himself and the cat.

"I agree with Weasley on this one." Draco opined, the Slytherin struggling to maintain his calm as he eyed the frozen feline warily "We don't want to be found here."

But it was too late, for even as they made to flee, the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people heralded the end of the Halloween Feast, Herwald barely managing to shove open a door, urging his friends inside a deserted classroom, just as the first students swarmed into the passage from both ends, the Einzbern looking on through the keyhole as the chatter and bustle dying away suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware!" someone shouted, and Herwald had the sneaking suspicion it was a Slytherin judging by the sneering tone "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

"Sounds like Montague…" Draco muttered, sending an apologetic look Herwald's way, knowing from experience that word was taboo around his friend, even as Ron and Neville scowled, the group slipping out of the classroom while no-one was looking, mingling with the crowd of confused students.

"What's going on here? What's going on?" a voice demanded, Argus Filch, the Squib Caretaker of Hogwarts, shouldering his way through the crowd, taking extra care to employ both elbows for good measure, only to fall back at the sight of his beloved familiar and spy "My cat! My cat!" he shrieked, clutching at his wrinkled face in horror "What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he rounded on the students in a rage "Who did it? Which of you little bastards did it? I swear to God I'll MURDER you all-!"

"_Argus_!" a familiar voice barked, the students parting respectfully, and partially out of fear, as Dumbledore arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers, the headmaster sweeping past the huffing form of Filch and detaching Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. "Come with me, Argus." he ordered Filch, before turning, to Herwald's shock, to look RIGHT AT HIM "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, and Miss Granger."

Herwald flinched, but covered it well as he stepped forwards, along with his friends, Ron, Neville and Hermione looking decidedly worried, while Draco tried to hide his concern behind his usual superior expression, though it failed as Filch rounded on them in a snarl of rage "_You_!" he screeched. "_You _did it! I'll kill you! I'll-!"

"ARGUS!" Dumbledore bellowed, and for a moment his eyes flashed with power, the headmaster glaring at the cowed caretaker until he was certain he wasn't about to put a toe out of line, before cancelling the effect and turning to the students "Follow me, please."

"My office is nearest, Headmaster." Lockhart suggested, the fop stepping forward eagerly in his bid to brown-nose "Just upstairs, please feel free…"

"Thank you, Gilderoy." Dumbledore offered, cutting off the man so easily Herwald couldn't help but feel impressed, the silent crowd parting to let them pass, an excited Lockhart opening the door to his office with a dramatic flair, Herwald's lip curling in disgust as he espied several of the fop's pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers.

The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back, allowing Dumbledore to lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface to examine her, the students exchanging tense looks as they sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, Professor Snape looming behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: almost as if he was forcing himself not to look at them, though Herwald felt his eyes on the back of his head several times.

All the while, Lockhart was hovering around looking important and making suggestions that nobody asked for. "It was definitely a curse that killed her." He deduced loudly "Probably the Transmogrifian Torture, I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her…"

"She seems awfully intact for a victim of the Transmogrifian Torture, Herr Lockhart." Herwald pointed out, his tone polite, though the smirk on his lips was decidedly mocking "Typically, victims tend to be turned inside out, if memory recalls." He looked up as Filch let out a small choking noise at the revelation "Relax, Herr Filch, the fact your familiar is whole, and still covered with Fur, eliminates THAT theory."

* * *

><p><em>DOUBLE SERVING!<em>

Filch relaxed, somewhat, which was a relief, as his racking sobs were rather unnerving to behold. The entire student body had painted an image of Filch being a bitter old spider that hated them for learning what he couldn't, it was quite world-shattering to see the man crying wholeheartedly for his feline partner in crime.

Lockhart apparently didn't take being corrected too well, scowling briefly before plastering a wider smile on his face, trying to catch Dumbledore's attention, only for the Headmaster to ignore him, muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, for all the good it did, as she continued to look and act as if she'd been recently stuffed.

"I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou." Lockhart persisted, the photographs on the walls nodding in agreement as he talked "A series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once…"

"She's not dead, Argus." Dumbledore cut in softly, the Headmaster straightening up at last, Lockhart stopping abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented, much to everyone's relief, with the possible exception of Hermione, who looked disappointed that the tale had stopped.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, the bitter caretaker looking at Mrs. Norris' form hopefully through his fingers, though it was tinged with confusion "But why's she all…stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified." Dumbledore revealed, artfully ignoring Lockhart's cry of 'Ah! I thought so!' as he continued to prod the Frozen Feline with his wand "As for how, I cannot say…"

"Ask _them_!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to the youths, only to quail under Herwald's emerald stare, as pity or not, the Einzbern would NOT be accused of a crime he had no part in.

"No second year could have done this." Dumbledore insisted firmly, dismissing the student's involvement without a second thought "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced level and mastery to pull off a feat like this within the halls of Hogwarts without first alerting ME."

"If I might speak, Headmaster?" Snape proposed from the shadows behind them "The children may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time." he suggested, earning looks of shock from the Gryffindors that he was coming to their aid, even as a slight sneer caused his mouth to curl "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Halloween feast?"

"If it pleases you, Potion's Master Snape." Draco spoke up, sending a look at Herwald to let him handle it as he turned to look at his Godfather "We were invited as Herwald's guests to attend Sir Nicholas de Mimsey-Porpington's Deathday Party."

"There were hundreds of ghosts at the party." Ron insisted, for once glad that his Slytherin rival had taken the lead "They'll tell you we were there…"

"But why not join the feast afterward?" Snape asked, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight as he regarded them carefully "Why go up to that corridor?"

"The party was an exhausting experience, Potion's Master." Herwald spoke up, as Draco had seemingly lost his tongue in the face of his Godfather's inquiry "We were escorting Hermione, Neville and Ronald." She shot Ron an apologetic look "Back to the tower with the intent of turning in for the night when we encountered Mrs. Norris."

"Without any supper?" Snape persisted, his features unreadable as the candlelight flickered across his gaunt face "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"Sir Nicholas saw that we were provided for personally." Herwald supplied, realizing that the man was looking for ways to cement their story "You can ask the House Elves if you don't believe me, I'm sure they can account for the food, consumable and otherwise."

"I see…" Snape noted, and while Herwald couldn't read his expression, something in the man's tone seemed tinged with approval even as he turned to face Dumbledore "Headmaster, from what I can see the students seem to have a solid alibi." He shot Ron and Neville a look as they made as if to cheer "It should be no trouble to ask Sir Nicholas to account for their presence, not to mention ascertain whether or not they were, as claimed, fed and watered sufficiently."

Herwald said nothing, as he had noticed Dumbledore looking at him and had turned to face the man head on, Emerald Green locking with Twinkling Blue, as if daring the Supreme Mugwump to discredit his alibi, though to the old man's credit, he didn't feel anything brush against his wards. "Very well, innocent until proven guilty." Dumbledore declared firmly after a moment, the students, with the exception of Herwald, letting out sighs of relief, even as a furious Filch leapt to his feet.

"My cat has been Petrified!" the caretaker shrieked, his eyes popping out of his skull as he shook his clenched fists in the air "I want to see some _punishment_!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus." Dumbledore assured the man patiently "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it!" Lockhart butted in, preening like a peacock "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep-!"

"Excuse me." Snape cut in, his voice like the Arctic in winter, causing the student's, and Filch, to edge away from him, shivering despite themselves "But I believe 'I' am the Potions master at this school."

"You may go," Dumbledore spoke up in the resulting, awkward pause, the students doing so, albeit reluctantly in the boys' case, as they wanted to see Lockhart try and dig his way out of THIS mess, while Hermione kept shooting concerned glances over her shoulder until the door slammed shut behind them, the Gryffindors saying their farewells, leaving Draco and Herwald to return to the Slytherin dormitory on their own.

"Are you planning to tell me what the hell had you so hot and bothered earlier?" Draco demanded, eyeing his friend pointedly "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that we won't be hearing the last of this from Godfather."

"I…heard something…" Herwald muttered, knowing even as he said it he was treading on thin ice, as even amongst wizards, hearing voices wasn't a good sign "It didn't sound HUMAN." He paused, recalling something "What did you mean earlier, when you saw the writing on the wall?"

Draco hesitated, no doubt cursing himself for speaking aloud, only to sigh and scratched the back of his flawless pale hair exasperatedly "It's an old story, you probably know how Hogwarts was founded by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age?"

"Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin." Herwald repeated, as if reading off a list "The Four houses are named after them, they supposed built the castle together and in secret, since it was about the time Magi suffered much persecution."

"Right…" Draco muttered, shivering at the image "Well as the stories go, the founders worked in harmony for years, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then Godric and Salazar began to argue over who should be taught magic. Salazar believed magical learning should be kept within all-magic families, whereas Godric believed anyone should be allowed to learn. In the end Salazar left the school, but not before he fashioned the Chamber of Secrets."

"Just what IS the chamber?" Herwald pressed, drawn, despite himself, to the tale, wondering just what had led to Salazar's leaving the school, and whether he just walked out, or was throw out, and whether or not a duel had been fought on the matter.

"No-one knows really." Draco admitted with a frown "All I can honestly say is that Salazar, without the other founders' knowledge, built a hidden chamber in the castle, sealing it off so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic." He must have read the look on Herwald's face, because the heir of Malfoy raised his hands placatingly to ward off his friend's anger "I'm just repeating the story as my father passed it down! Most people don't believe the Chamber even exists!"

"I assume from your tone that your father thinks otherwise." Herwald noted, relaxing his features, as just because Lord Malfoy was a prat, didn't mean his son had to suffer the same fate, not if Herwald had any say in it "Has it ever been opened?"

"Once that Father can vouch for, though he won't tell me anything about it." Draco admitted, looking rather sullen as he said it "Of course, it was over fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it." He looked at Herwald seriously "But he DID tell me one thing: The last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Muggleborn witch died."

Herwald said nothing, but his mind was already moving a mile a minute as he stalked silently down the corridors towards the dungeon, trying to figure out just what the hell he'd heard, and whether or not it had any relation to Slytherin's Monster.

Knowing HIS luck, it was probably all that and more.

* * *

><p>And I'll leave off there...<p>

Spy: Things are beginning to heat up...

Scout: That was pathetic! Look at that freak, crying over some stupid cat.

Heavy: Keep crying baby!

Pyro: *Angry mutterings* MHMHMMMAM!

Scout: Whoa! Easy there matchstick!

Spy: Still, from the looks of things, it would seem young 'Arry retains Riddle's gift with snakes.

Scout: Freaky is what it is, how'd he do that anyway?

Kyugan: I'll cover that later, in the meantime, R&R!


	7. Chapter 7 The Rogue Bludger

Been a while since I updated this one.

Soldier: Slacker!

Spy: Calm yourself my friend.

Soldier: Zip it fenchie!

Spy: *Sighs, tosses Sapper onto Soldier, frying him* one too many hits with ze shovel zat one.

Kyugan: Indeed. In any case, the wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what change this continuum shift has wrought!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7: The Rogue Bludger.<span>

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back, occasionally taking time out of glaring murderously at the students to try and scrub the message off the wall with 'Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover', for all the good it did, if anything the words gleamed brighter than ever, as all he'd managed to do was scrub the dirt of centuries off the wall.

When the caretaker WASN'T guarding the scene of the crime or railing at his inability to clean the graffiti off it, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like 'breathing loudly' and 'looking happy', which were surprisingly legitimate offenses, albeit ones that hadn't been used since the dark ages.

Surprisingly, the attack had also had an effect on Herwald, or rather, his reputation. It was first noticed when people began whispering about him in the halls whenever he passed, nothing new there really, they did it all time, though the upper years had gotten over the novelty after his first year, however he didn't suspect something deeper was going on when during a study session in the library, where Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff friend of Neville's, took one look at him and turned abruptly, speeding off in the opposite direction.

"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony." Ron was telling the others as they swept out of the Library, Draco having filled the group in as to The Chamber's origins, though he kept the mention of his father out of the retelling "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. No offense Herwald but if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd have got the train straight back home…"

"Believe me, Weasley," Draco opined wryly, his brow twitching in mild irritation as he eyed the redhead out the corner of his eye "if the Hat had sorted you into Slytherin, I'd have done the same."

Herwald rolled his eyes, bemused despite himself at the banter between the blonde and redhead, for as annoying as it could get at time, at the very least they could stand one another's company without exchanging curses of the magical variety with one another. "Guten Tag, Colin." He greeted automatically, spying the Gryffindor first-year amongst the throng of students heading the other way.

"Harry!" Collin called out, his features lined with excited concern as he fought against the flow "Harry, Listen! A boy in my class has been saying you're-!"

Whatever the boy had been saying was lost, as Colin, despite his eagerness, was too small to fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall, a tide that quickened once they realized who he was talking to, the boy managing one last 'See you, Harry!' before he was swallowed up. "I wonder what they're saying about you?" Hermione pondered, looking at her friend in concern.

"That I'm Slytherin's heir, or some Scheiße to that effect I expect." Herwald muttered, earning a snort of bemusement from Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, who were bringing up the rear, the two having filled their larger compatriots in when they returned to the dormitory the other night.

"People here'll believe anything." Ron muttered in disgust, scowling at the crowd, which slowly managed to thin, allowing them to climb the next staircase without difficulty "D'you REALLY think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Someone seems to think so." Hermione reminded the redhead with a frown "And Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be, well, human."

As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall, which still bore its ominous message.

"That's where Filch has been keeping guard." Ron muttered, the redhead shivering slightly as he stared at the ominous silver writing, only to blink as Herwald passed his book bag to him "Harry?"

"Give me a second…" Herwald muttered, crouching down to get a better look at the crime scene, frowning as he spotted several clues "Look here…scorch marks!" he pointed out, drawing their attention "Here, and here, fairly fresh too, the water from earlier was probably to put out whatever caused them…"

"Herwald! Hermione called out, drawing her friends attention to a nearby window "Come and look at this! This certainly isn't normal…"

Herwald quirked a brow, getting to his feet and dusting off his hands as he joined the rest of the group at the window next to the message on the wall, following Hermione's extended finger to the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside. "Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly, looking on in amazement, entranced by the arachnids unnatural activity.

"Never." Draco countered, the Malfoy heir quirking a brow as he stared at the little eight legged pests, Goyle scratching his head in dazed wonderment "What about you Weasley…Weasley?"

Herwald looked over his shoulder to see Ron standing well back from the window, his eyes locked on the multitude of arachnids, the expression in on his face making it clear he was fighting a losing battle against his desire to run. "I…don't…like…spiders." The redhead grit out from between clenched teeth, his entire jaw working in a way that Herwald knew was the result of his resisting the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.

"Oh you cannot be serious…" Draco muttered, the blonde curling his lip as he glared at the redhead in disbelief "Honestly Weasley, you've used the damned things more often than not in Potions…"

"I don't mind them DEAD." Ron countered, and Draco was surprised that there was no anger in the redhead's tone, as he was focusing on looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move…" he scowled at Crabbe, Goyle and Hermione, the former two sniggering openly, while the latter burst into giggles "It's not funny!" he snarled fiercely, which only set them off further "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my…" he flushed scarlet, looking anywhere but at Draco and Herwald "my teddy bear…into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick. I'd like to see how well YOU liked the little bastards after you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and pincers the size of your arm and mad, gleaming red eyes…"

He broke off with a shudder, a sentiment shared by the others, even Crabbe and Goyle looking decidedly unnerved at the image of being that close to a spider the size of a teddy bear. Admittedly, larger spiders tended not to be venomous, but then they didn't need to be, their sheer size meant they could tear their prey apart without the need to immobilize them first. "Where do you think the water came from?" Herwald demanded, the Einzbern getting the distinct feeling they had better get off the subject.

"It was about here." Ron muttered, recovering himself with a grateful sigh as he walked a few paces past Filch's chair "Level with this door." He muttered, reaching for the brass doorknob, only to suddenly withdraw his hand as though he'd been burned.

"Oh what's wrong now?" Draco demanded, the Malfoy heir looking annoyed with the redhead's recent over-the-top antics "Don't tell me you're scared of doorknobs now too?"

"Stuff it Malfoy." Ron muttered gruffly, though he had the decency to blush "I can't go in there even if I wanted to." He pointed at the image on the door "That's a girls' toilet."

"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in THERE." Hermione countered, sighing in exasperation even as she pushed past the boy "That's Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom." She pointed out, ignoring the large OUT OF ORDER sign and opening the door "Come on, let's have a look."

They did so, Crabbe and Goyle opting to stand outside and keep watch for Filch or a member of staff, this WAS a girl's bathroom after all, the rest filing in after Hermione, feeling it was better if she led the way, being legally allowed to enter, taking in the scene before them in disbelief.

It was, put simply, the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Herwald had ever set foot in his entire life. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

"Huh…" Ron muttered, quirking a brow intriguingly as he nudged the others, drawing their attention to the opposite walls "I'll be damned, they really DON'T have urinals in here…Fred and George weren't having me on after all..."

Hermione scowled at the boy, a flush adorning her cheeks as she raised a finger to her lips, urging him to be silent, the boys following her down to the end stall, taking a deep breath to compose herself before speaking up "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"

"This is a _girls' _bathroom." Moaning Myrtle muttered, the spectral student floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin as she eyed the boys suspiciously. "THEY'REnot girls, though the one with the glasses has a nice braid."

"It is a nice braid isn't it?" Hermione agreed, sending an apologetic look at Herwald, who scowled at Ron, Neville and Draco for sniggering at him "I just wanted to show them how…uh…nice it is in here."

Herwald rolled his eyes, a sentiment that was clearly shared by Myrtle, who was staring at Hermione as if SHE was the one with mental problems. "If I may, Frau Myrtle." He spoke up, drawing the ghost's attention "We, that is, my friends and I, we wondering if you'd seen anything funny lately?" he gestured to the door to the bathroom "You see, a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween. Did you happen to see anyone near here that night?"

"I wasn't paying attention." Myrtle replied, sighing dramatically "Peeves upset me so much at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party that I came in here and tried to _kill _myself." She looked delighted at the thought, only to sigh once more "Then, of course, I remembered that I'm…that I'm-!"

"Already dead?" Ron supplied helpfully, only to wince as Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight, although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.

"Nice one, Weasley…" Draco muttered acidly, wiping toilet-water off his face as he glared at the redhead with all the intensity of a high-powered laser drill "Set off the emotionally unstable ghost, oh very well done, remind me to never vote for you the next time they're electing foreign ambassadors."

"Oh calm down Draco." Hermione sighed, shrugging wearily as Ron turned red from embarrassment, shaking the water from her hair "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle. Come on, let's go-!"

She trailed off as Crabbe and Goyle sauntered in, the two sentries having espied Ron's brother Percy marching up the corridor and had ducked inside to avoid being noticed, the group waiting until they were certain the Weasley Prefect had buggered off before making their escape.

* * *

><p><em>A few days later...<em>

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes re-enacted some of the more dramatic bits, though he wisely refrained from trying to convince Herwald from helping out after the first try. Amorous Lethlifold of New Guinea INDEED!

Fortunately, Saturday morning rolled around, and with it, the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the Lions eager to kick-start the year with a resounding victory over their serpentine rivals. Draco was in high spirits, not only because this would be his first official match as Slytherin seeker, but because the Slytherin team were all mounted on Nimbus 2001s, the fastest racing brooms gold could buy, whereas the Gryffindors rode a motley selection of comet 260s and Cleansweep 7's. Statistically speaking, it wasn't going to be a match so much as a SLAUGHTER.

Herwald really could have cared less, as he wasn't that fond of Quidditch despite Draco's attempts to get him hooked on what was the Wizarding World's Traditional Sport, however it was considered bad-show to miss a house match, and so he took up position in the stands along with his fellow Slytherins, an emerald and silver scarf wrapped tightly around his neck as he leafed through one of the alchemical texts Flamel had thoughtfully purchased for him along with his schoolbooks, though he doubted he'd get reading much of it, if the hint of thunder in the air was any indication.

He looked up as the Gryffindor players walked out onto the pitch to a roar of noise, and was disgusted by the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs' biased support, the two houses, despite having no part in the rivalry between the Snakes and the Lions, nonetheless wanting to see Slytherin beaten.

'Verdammt House Rivalries…' he muttered, looking on as Madam Hooch asked Captains Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary, the two teams mounting their brooms, before shooting into the air at the sound of Hooch's whistle, Draco rising hire than any of them so as to get a better view of the playing field.

Herwald was so busy watching the match, knowing he'd catch an earful if Draco spotted him reading, that he almost didn't notice the danger rocketing towards him until it was too late, only his training under the Einzberns for the 5th Grail war allowing him to lunge to the side, scant seconds before a Bludger, which had veered off from circling the pitch without anyone seemingly noticing, slammed into the space his head had previously occupied.

"WAS DIE FICK?" Herwald swore, blinking in alarm at the shattered wood that had once been the back of the stands, only to swear as the Bludger came round for another pass, once again narrowly missing him by a hair's breadth "SCHEIßE!"

It was pandemonium in the stands, the rest of the Slytherins screaming as they scrambled to get away from the devastation left in the errant Bludger's wake, tripping each other up and generally making it difficult to move.

"Scheiße!" Herwald swore, realizing that he was buggered at this rate, as it was clear the magical cannonball was only after HIM, it certainly only seemed to be aiming wherever HE was, and that at this rate, it was only a matter of trial and error before it either nailed him, or injured someone in the process.

Realizing this, there was only one course of action the Einzbern could take, and so he waited until the Bludger was already rocketing towards him, before reinforcing his legs and LEAPING out of the stands, the Bludger missing him by a hairs breadth, the wind from it's passing tumbling him slightly as he fell to the ground, slapping the pitch and rolling to the side like an expert tumbler, scant seconds before the demented cannonball slammed into the ground after him.

"Not so easy NOW you iron hoden." Herwald sneered, smirking as he slapped his left hand into the ground, a shield of dirt rising between him and the Bludger, though he grimaced as the impact of the two colliding actually caused the entire structure to crumble "Scheiße, and they actually let people get HIT by these things?" he muttered, rolling clear and summoning another barrier, making sure to reinforce it this time to weather the assault.

"MR. POTTER!" Madam Hooch cried, the Quidditch coach and referee for the match descending on him from on high, her face pale and her hawk-like eyes wide with concern for her student's safety "Come on! On my broom!"

"Look out!" Herwald swore, only to curse as the other Bludger, which had gone unnoticed during the exchange, rammed into her back, sending Madam Hooch sprawling off her broom, her eyes wide with alarm and pain "Scheiße!"

Breaking from cover, Herwald lunged forwards, feet first, his arms catching the falling instructor before she hit the ground, only to curse as he slipped on the pitch, sodden after days of rain, going down on his arse, unable to do anything but turn so that his side shielded the woman from the incoming rogue Bludger, which slammed into his left arm with a sickening crack.

"Scheiße!" he swore, gritting his teeth from the pain, as even with reinforcement, the Bludger had hit with the force of a cannonball, an attack no mere mortal or even a dead apostle, could withstand with hastily prepared defences. A servant could shrug such an attack off with no trouble, hell Heracles could have bounced the damn thing off his FACE and not even blink, but despite his magical training, Herwald was only a twelve year old boy, and right now it felt like every bone in his arm had shattered from the blow.

'Left arm's fucked…' he muttered, struggling to regain his composure as he ignored the pain, one Emerald eye cracking open to watch the skies, where both team's beaters, in an unusual show of solidarity, were apparently on patrol warding off the demented Bludger 'Entire left side feels numb…can still feel my toes but I don't think I'm running anywhere like this…'

Not that he was intending to run. The Einzberns NEVER ran, to retreat was to admit failure, to turn your back on the enemy was to die. Even if it meant facing their maker before their time, an Einzbern would face whatever life threw at them and die laughing in death's face.

"HARRY!" one of the Weasley twins yelled, Herwald looking up to see the Bludger had managed to slip past a Slytherin Beater by using its twin as a distraction, the magical cannonball rocketing towards him murderously "GET OUTTA THE WAY!"

Had Herwald been alone he might have considered it, but with his left side numb and the wounded Madam Hooch to contend with, the Boy-Who-Lived's options were limited. He could either abandon Hooch, leaving her to he crushed by the Bludger when he dodged, or he could take the blow again and protect her, which would probably result in his being killed instantly, or worse, crippled, unable to do anything but lie helpless wondering when the finishing blow would come.

'To Hölle with THAT…' he growled, setting Madam Hooch on the ground and staggering to his feet, his broken left arm dangling limply even as he raised his right hand, popping the joints of his fingers as he envisioned a woman's scream and a flash of emerald death 'I pick door number three!'

So saying he lunged forwards, his right hand brimming with all the prana he could muster, the alchemical arrays blazing beneath his robes as he lashed out at oncoming projectile, his emerald eyes flashing as he grabbed the murderous Bludger and activated the destructive arrays, the impact of the blow jarring every bone in his body, the last thing he saw was the sleeve of his robe shredding from the alchemical backlash, and then the world went white.

* * *

><p><em>Emiya Estate, Japan...<em>

"Oh no!" Sakura exclaimed, the younger Tohsaka sibling looking on in distress as Illyasviel's teacup cracked at the handle, causing it to spill it's contents all over the table "Hold still Ilya-chan, I'll clean it up."

"Sorry..." Illyasviel offered, a little surprised at the sudden destruction of the cup, the deceptively young Homunculous turning her ruby eyes towards the spreading tea stain, which Tiger was licking at tentatively.

'Strange...' she muttered, reaching out to stroke her kitten's fur behind it's ears 'Why do I feel like something bad has happened?'

* * *

><p><em>Hogwarts...<em>

The sound of voices echoing above him and the feel of rain falling on his face heralded Herwald's return to consciousness, the Einzbern grimacing from the pain in his right arm, a stark contrast to the dull numbness of his left. Someone was supporting his head, though he could tell from the feel of grass beneath his fingers he was still lying on the field.

Grimacing, he cracked one emerald eye open to see what was going on, only to instantly regret it as he came face to incisors with a set of glittering teeth. "Oh, Gott im Himmel…" he moaned, closing his eye and praying fervently to whatever deities or Epic Heroes that were listening that this was just a dream "I've died and gone to Hölle..."

"He's delerious, doesn't know what he's saying!" Lockhart declared loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors and Slytherins pressing around them, "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arms."

"NEIN!" Herwald snapped, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he struggled, despite his injuries, to get the hell away from Lockhart, only to curse as the man's iron grip on his shoulder prevented him from doing so "Get zur Hölle off me you Scheisskerl!" He grimaced as he heard a familiar clicking noise nearby "Verdammt Collin! Don't just stand there! Get Dumbledore down here before this Schwachkopf-!"

"Lie back, Harry!" Lockhart urged, far too loudly to be seen as soothing as he set the boy back on the pitch, Herwald hissing as pain raced up his right side "It's a simple charm I've used countless times!"

"In that case use it on Madam Hooch first!" Herwald swore, apologizing to the poor woman even as he said it, but right now he'd do almost anything to get away from Lockhart "Or Hölle, get us both to the Verdammt hospital wing!"

But Lockhart wasn't listening, and before anyone could stop him, the man had rolled up his jade-green sleeves, giving his wand a dramatic twirl before aiming it at Herwald, the Einzbern flinching, part of him expecting to be brutally disfigured, another part expecting him to explode, while another prayed, hopefully, that the fop would fumble it up again and nothing at all would happen, therefore, he was only half surprised when a strange and decidedly unpleasant sensation of his arms deflating started at his shoulders, spreading all the way down to his fingertips.

He couldn't see what was happening, he couldn't even push himself up as his arms, for whatever reason, simply weren't able to comply, nor did they feel remotely like arms for that matter. It was if they were GONE, a fear that was growing all the more certain as the people above him gasped and Colin's camera began clicking away madly.

"Ah." Lockhart uttered, and Herwald had never hated two letters more in his entire existence than he did those spoken by the nervously smiling fop before him "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen." He admitted, sweating nervously in the face of Herwald's furious emerald glare "But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind." He chuckled nervously as Herwald's scowl merely intensified "So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing…" he looked around wildly "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him?" he smiled down at Herwald "And Madam Pomfrey will be able to…er…tidy you up a bit."

Herwald moved to get up, and found he couldn't as neither of his arms was responding to his commands. Glaring murderously at Lockhart, who had wisely decided to make himself scarce, the Einzbern allowed himself to be helped to his feet by a rather pale looking Ron and Neville, staggering slightly as he got to his feet, feeling strangely lopsided. Taking a deep breath, more to steady himself than anything else, the Einzbern dared to look down at his arms, a thousand curses magical and otherwise, forming on the tip of his tongue as he saw just what Lockhart had done to him.

From the shoulder down, the sleeves of his right arm was gone, revealing his alchemical array for all to see, though they were dim now, devoid of prana, about as harmless as ordinary mundane tattoos. That wasn't the problem however, what BOTHERED Herwald was that his arm, which was normally rather toned for an eleven year old, now resembled a thick, flesh-coloured rubber glove, and while he couldn't see his left arm because of the sleeve covering it, the sight of his lifeless fingers peeking out from the end was all he needed to confirm it had suffered a similar fate.

Lockhart hadn't mended his bones, the bloody Scheißekopf had REMOVED them.

"I'll kill him…!" he snarled, his emerald eyes flashing as he turned, struggling against Ron and Neville's desperate grip, urging what little prana remained in his body towards his legs as he advanced on Lockhart, who took one look at his expression and redoubled his retreat "Get off me! I'm going to kill that Arschloch!"

"Harry mate calm down!" Ron exclaimed, looking on in alarm as his disarmed friend actually managed several feet towards the retreating Lockhart, cursing a blue streak in fast-paced German all the while "Blimey! FRED! GEORGE! Help out you pratts!"

"Easy there Harry…" Fred or George urged, Herwald was too pissed to care, the twins grabbing his shoulders, what was left of them anyways, and yanking him bodily off the ground "Believe me, we know how you feel, but let's get you to Madam Pomfrey for now."

"Think about it mate." The other twin urged, grinning nervously in the face of Herwald's murderous expression "You'll have a much easier time killing him with full use of your hands."

Herwald scowled, wanting nothing more than to ignore them and rip Lockhart's face off with his teeth, only to relent, the Weasley's setting him down and escorting him off the pitch towards the castle, the wall of students parting before them. "What happened to the Bludger?" He demanded, looking over his shoulder warily in case the demented cannonball made another bid for his life "Did they get it under control?"

"Couldn't mate…" Fred or George muttered, the Gryffindor seeker looking impressed as hell as he grinned at the Einzbern "You completely destroyed the bloody thing, damn near blinded me with the flash, all that's left was a pile of dust on the pitch."

Herwald couldn't help but feel a little pleased with himself at those words, a small smirk adorning his lips as he stumbled up the steps and into the castle.

* * *

><p>And I'll leave off there...<p>

Heavy: LOCKHART! I am going to kill you! And Kill You! And Kill YOU!

Spy: Easy Fat man! *sighs as he runs off* Oh well, they certainly can't accuse you of copy-pasting the original source material now.

Kyugan: There's nothing wrong with sticking to the source material. I find it makes a good timeline, however, certain events happen differently as a result of Herwald being different than Harry, like their awareness of the Chamber despite not speaking to Binns, and Malfoy's support.

Pyro: *Angry mutterings* MHMHMMMAM!

Kyugan: Quite a bit of German used this chapter. To all native German speakers, I apologize if my use is out of context, I'm relying on various sources but nothing beats being fluent in a language.

Spy: Doktor, if you would?

Medic: Ja *ahem*

Medic's Uber-Translation Corner:

Was Die Fick-What the F*ck

Hoden-Ball, testicle.

Hölle-Hell.

Gott im Himmel-God in Heaven.

Scheisskerl-Son of a bitch, motherf*cker etc.

Schwachkopf-Moron, Dimwit, Wanker etc.

Scheißekopf-Shithead etc.

Arschloch-Arsehole, Asshole, dickhead, f*ckhead etc.

Kyugan: Herwald's quite the potty mouth isn't he folks? In any case, tune in for next time!


	8. Chapter 8 The Second Attack

Whew, took me long enough, I miss anything?.

Spy: Not really, we spent most of our time trying to find Heavy.

Me: Got lost again?

Spy: We needed to use sandwiches to lure him out again.

Me: Ah well, the wheel of fate is turning, let's see what the continuum shift has wrought.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8: The Second Attack.<span>

Needless to say, Madam Pomfrey wasn't pleased with Herwald's condition, if anything, she seemed even MORE liable to murder Lockhart than Herald himself.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm. "I can mend bones in a second, but growing them back…"

"You will be able to, won't you?" Herwald asked, keeping his tone controlled and steady as he regarded the Hogwarts Matron, though he couldn't help feeling rather desperate at the moment, as without his arms, he couldn't use Alchemy, or any other Magecraft for that matter.

Illyasviel wasn't nearly so limited, as she had her mystic eyes of binding and the inherited magical knowledge of the Justica series of Homunculi, and Shirou could just trace a multitude of airborne blades to protect himself, but Herwald and Sakura were limited to using their hands to work their Magics. He wasn't too certain with Rin, as knowing the stubborn Tohsaka heir, she'd probably launch one of her magical gems at her opponent by spitting it at them, but that would likely be a last-ditch attack, as her trademark Gandr spell relied on the use of her index fingers.

In short, for the first time since he and Illyasviel had been separated for their training, Herwald felt completely, absolutely defenceless, and hated every minute of it.

"I'll be able to, certainly." Madam Pomfrey assured him, her expression grim, though her eyes were kind as she looked him over "But it will be painful," she warned, throwing a pair of pyjamas at the boy "You'll have to stay the night…"

Hermione, Crabbe and Goyle waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Ron and Neville helped him into his pyjamas, the redhead muttering curses as he struggled to stuff Herwald's rubbery, boneless right arm into a sleeve. "How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione?" Ron demanded, calling out through the curtain as he pulled Herwald's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake." Hermione countered defensively, though to her credit, even SHE seemed unnerved by Herwald's predicament as she peeked in at him "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"

"Hermione…" Herwald muttered, looking at the girl with a flat, calm expression that was nonetheless more terrifying than any the girl had seen on his face "You are a cherished friend and I respect you, but if THIS isn't enough to get you to pull your head out of your Asch, then there's nothing I can do for you."

Hermione flinched, looking at the boy with a hurt expression even as Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain, holding a large bottle of something labelled Skele-Gro. "You're in for a rough night." she warned the Einzbern youth, pouring out a steaming beaker of the contents and holding it up to Herwald's mouth "Re-growing bones is a nasty business."

So was taking the Skele-Gro itself, only Herwald's high resistance to pain keeping him from choking as it burned the inside of his mouth and throat as it went down, the Einzbern coughing after the cup had been pulled away, though to his credit, he managed the entire beaker in one draught.

Muttering to herself about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Ron, Neville, Crabbe, Goyle and Hermione to keep their friend company, Neville helping the Einzbern youth to gulp down some water. "Danke, Neville." He offered, smiling gratefully at the round-faced boy, before turning his attention to Crabbe and Goyle "Where's Draco?"

"Got held back, along with the other players." Crabbe muttered, looking down at his friend with concern in his normally gormless eyes as Goyle nodded silently.

"The teachers decided to continue the match once they were sure you and Madam Hooch were in the clear." Ron revealed "I think Dumbledore was against it, but apparently that prat Lockhart insisted the match continue and the students ate it up."

"Yet another claim to lay on that fool's grave when I get my hands on him." Herwald muttered, sending a sharp look at Hermione when she opened her mouth to protest, the Einzbern now having ANOTHER reason to hate Quidditch, as if the Bludger hadn't been bad enough.

"I wonder what the hell was wrong with that Bludger." Hermione spoke up, apparently eager to move the topic away from her idol's supposed, in her mind, shortcomings "That was nowhere NEAR normal."

"I'd consider employing a magical flying cannonball to knock people off their brooms abnormal enough in its own right." Herwald muttered, scowling in distaste "But I have to admit that whoever came up with the idea did so thoroughly, there are safeguards in place that prevent them from attacking people in the stands…charms FAR too strong for any student to undo."

"You don't think it was a member of staff?" Ron muttered, looking at his friend in concern, his eyes widening in shocked realization "Filch! I'll bet HE did it! He's the only one with the keys to the sport shed other than Madam Hooch-!"

"Filch is a Squib." Herwald countered, earning looks of shock from Ron and Neville, sniggers from Crabbe and Goyle and a blink of confusion from Hermione "I doubt he'd be able to convince a mayfly the sky was blue let alone break the safeguards on a ministry approved Bludger."

"Not Filch then…" Neville chuckled, unable to help himself, for while being a squib wasn't exactly a BAD thing, it was still an embarrassing Stigma, one HE'D narrowly avoided when he survived being dropped out a window "That leaves…pretty much the rest of the staff except Madam Pomfrey."

"The only ones with the keys to the Quidditch supply shed are Filch, Madam Hooch, and Hagrid." Herwald countered, earning looks of shock from the Gryffindors "I'm not saying HE did it, but he IS the Keeper of the Keys, which means he has a copy of every Key in Hogwarts, that includes the one to the Quidditch supply shed."

"That makes sense I suppose…" Hermione reasoned nervously "It certainly wouldn't be impossible for someone to slip into his hut and steal the keys without him knowing, Hagrid can't use magic after all and he usually takes Fang with him on his rounds…"

The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment, revealing a wide-eyed, filthy and soaking wet form that resembled Draco Malfoy, albeit one that had been rolling around in mud. "Herwald!" he cried out, catching sight of his friend and racing towards him, all his normal composure apparently gone as he pulled up alongside the Einzbern's bed "Are you alright? What did that idiot do?"

"Calm down, Draco…" Herwald muttered, amazed, and honestly a bit touched, to see his normally composed friend so bent out of shape over his wellbeing "I'm fine, as you can see, I'm more worried about YOU actually, did you get into a fight with a landslide or something?"

"Hm?" Draco wondered, looking down at himself in confusion, his eyes widening as if he only realized now the state he was in "Merlin I'm a mess…this is going to take ages to get out…" his hands went to his hair, which was filled with mud and leaves "Oh Merlin, how bad is it…?"

"Not so bad…" Herwald teased, his emerald eyes twinkling in amusement as he smiled wryly at the distressed Malfoy "I hear women go crazy for the wild-man look." He chuckled at Draco's look of anger "Seriously though, how was the match?"

"We won!" Draco revealed, a wide grin plastered across his face as he moved to shake his friend's hand, only to stop himself at the last moment "I'd have been here sooner but both teams seemed really fired up after what happened, I don't think I've ever seen Professor Snape so angry before, he kept glaring at the substitute Bludgers like they were, well, like they were Longbottom really."

"Those poor Bludgers…" Neville chuckled weakly, as even with Herwald and Draco's help he still had the occasional near accident in Potions class. It was simply a miracle he hadn't melted his first cauldron yet "So what was the score?"

"I honestly can't remember." Draco admitted, looking sheepish "The moment I caught the snitch I shoved it intoFlint's hand and sped off here as fast as my Nimbus could take me."

Herwald smiled at that, honestly touched by his friend's concern, the group continuing to chatter, joined briefly by the Weasley Twins, who stopped by to tease the boy before they were all bundled out by Madam Pomfrey, the matron checking on the boy briefly, tucking him into the comfy bed, before leaving him alone to check on Madam Hooch in the next bed over, Herwald closing his eyes and trying to drift off to sleep despite the stabbing pains in his arms.

* * *

><p><em>Later that night...<em>

Herwald yelped as he woke quite suddenly, only to be met with the pitch blackness of the Hospital wing at night. At first he thought the pain in his arms had woken him, as they'd developed from sharp stabs to a feeling not unlike they'd been stuffed full of large, bony splinters, discomforting even to someone with HIS level of tolerance, however it soon became clear to him that the reason he'd awoken was because someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.

"Was zur Hölle?" he muttered, shaking his head to rid himself of the unwanted attention, only to blink as he espied a familiar pair of goggling, tennis ball eyes peering at him through the darkness "Dobby? Is that you?"

"It is I, Harry Potter Sir…" the miserable little elf admitted sadly, a single tear running down his long, pointed nose as he continued to gaze morosely at the Einzbern "Harry Potter came back to school." he whispered miserably "Dobby suspected he would do so, for Harry Potter knows no fear. Is even travelling with Ancient One without fear of being turned to stone."

Herwald blinked, only to narrow his eyes, as there was only one person he knew off that fit the term 'ancient' who could petrify people in the literal, 'turned to stone' sense "You were the one who blocked the barrier at King's cross, weren't you?"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway, though he knew he would have to iron his hands afterwards…" he shivered uncontrollably "However, Dobby is forgetting to do so, because the Ancient One's power scared Dobby so much he had to hide himself behind the boiler and didn't come out for weeks." He shivered uncontrollably "Master was very angry with Dobby…beat Dobby most severely he did…but Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was in danger, imagine his relief when he is learning you were at school, unharmed! Dobby is being so relieved he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir…"

Herwald flinched, his anger fading away o pity, unable to stay angry at the sad, broken little creature that had, in its own way and despite its nature, tried to help him "You shouldn't be here Dobby." He reminded the Elf "If memory serves your master would not approve of this, he could KILL you."

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir." The elf admitted with a weak smile "Dobby gets them five times a day at home." He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry had to resist the urge to try and pat him on the shoulder, for one thing he'd probably end up accidentally swatting the elf, "But Dobby is not important! What is important is that Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make…"

"Your Bludger?" Herwald repeated, his emerald eyes widening in understanding as he sat up n the bed, his anger giving him the strength he needed as he glared at the Elf, all sympathy gone in the face of his rage "YOU'RE the one that made that Bludger try and kill me?"

"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" Dobby countered, looking so shocked by the accusation that Herwald couldn't help but believe him "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" Herald muttered angrily, though the blatant concern in the elf's face made it hard for him to be truly angry. In a way he could understand it, for while House Elves were phenomenally powerful in regards to magic, they could be remarkably simple at times. "I think I should warn you, Dobby, that my sister would not share your opinion."

"Harry Potter is having a Sister?" Dobby exclaimed, looking at the injured magus in amazement, as if this were the news of the century.

"Adopted, though we don't let such things bother us." Herwald muttered coolly "I'd steer clear of her though, she's liable to make a HAT out of you for this."

"Is worth it if Harry Potter is safe." Dobby insisted, surprising Herwald once more with just how highly the creature valued his life "Ah, if Harry Potter only knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world!" he blew his nose on his pillowcase "Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end." He sighed dramatically "And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more."

* * *

><p><em>After Dobby's revelation...<em>

Herwald tensed, his mind whirling at the revelation of just how important he was to the Magical World, or at least to a certain part of it, even as Dobby, realizing what he'd just said, grabbed the teen's water jug from his bedside table and cracked himself upside the head with it, toppling out of sight.

From the sound of things, Herwald had been greatly underestimating his fame. He'd thought he was little more than an unwilling celebrity, or pop-culture icon, something that would fade with time as people got over themselves. It never occurred to him that, with his supposed defeat of Voldemort, he would be elevated to the same level as an Epic Hero, a symbol of hope and courage that people called upon in their darkest hours, such as the tales of Arturia and how she'd return inBritain's time of greatest need.

'And I haven't even hit puberty yet…' he muttered, shaking his head in bemusement, as even Shirou, who was apparently destined for a similar role if Archer was any indication, had yet to reach that level of fame 'Scheiße, I wouldn't be surprised if I wound up being summoned in a future Grail War myself one day…'

Dobby chose that moment to clamber back onto the bed, cross-eyed and mildly concussed, muttering 'Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby…' again and again as he swayed from side to side, trying to bring Herwald back into focus. "You mentioned the Chamber of Secrets has been opened again." He noted, shooting Dobby a glare to stop him from punishing himself anymore "Relax, I already know it exists, and I know it's already been opened, a Muggleborn witch died last time, right?" he frowned at Dobby's nod "But then why am 'I' in danger? The curse only affects Muggleborns, I'm a Half-Blood."

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge as he trembled in the dark "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen. He gripped Herwald's rubbery hands desperately "Go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous."

"Danger tends to find me wherever I go, Dobby." Herwald countered, smiling ruefully at the elf, who seemed stunned at the revelation "But even if I could run, I wouldn't. Some of my closest friends are Muggleborns, one of which I'm proud to call my brother." He tightened his grip on the elf's hands "I wouldn't be ALIVE right now if it weren't for him, I'll never be able to look him in the eye if I abandoned the Muggleborns just to save myself."

"Harry Potter has a brother too?" Dobby exclaimed, looking awestruck at the revelation "A brother who is just as courageous as Harry Potter, who would risks his own life for his friends?" the elf moaned, an expression of excitement on his face "So noble! So valiant! Very well, if Harry Potter cannot leave, then Dobby will do everything he can to help!"

Considering the Elf's LAST attempt to HELP him gave Lockhart an opening to banish the bones in his arms, it was understandable that this declaration sent a shiver of fear up the Einzbern's spine. Before he could counter the offer, however, Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering, drawing Herwald's attention to the sound of approaching footsteps, the elf vanishing with a loud crack, Herwald slumping back onto the bed and pretending to sleep, peering at the dark door to the hospital wing, only to blink as it swung open, Dumbledore backing into the room, dressed in a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap.

As Herwald looked on, it became clear the Headmaster was carrying one end of what looked like a statue, Professor McGonagall appearing a second later, carrying its feet, Herwald's curiosity rising at the fact they were carrying it by hand instead of using magic to levitate it, only to tense as they heaved it onto a bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey." Dumbledore whispered, McGonagall hurrying past the end of Herwald's bed out of sight, the Einzbern pretending to be asleep even as he listened to the urgent voices in the background, McGonagall returning with Madam Pomfrey in tow, the Matron pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress, inhaling sharply at the sight of Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed "Another attack." Dumbledore muttered solemnly "Minerva found him on the stairs."

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," Professor McGonagall added, sounding lost, confused and distraught as she said it "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."

Herald stiffened, a knife dropping through his head and through the pit of his stomach, a sense of dread washing over him as images of his friend's petrified faces washed over him, the Einzbern slowly raising himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed, a ray of moonlight illuminating the staring face of Colin Creevey, the Gryffindor First Year's eyes wide and his hands stuck in front of him, holding his camera.

Dumbledore seemed to take note of the Camera, the Headmaster wrenching it, carefully, out of the boy's hands while Minerva fretted over the boy's fate had the man not been on the way down to the kitchens for a hot-chocolate "You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" she asked, only to step back in shock as he opened the back of the camera, a jet of steam hissing into the air, Herwald's nose twitching as he caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic from three beds away.

"Good gracious!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, covering her mouth as she stared at the remains of the camera in alarm "Melted…all melted…"

"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked, looking at the Headmaster urgently, as if praying her suspicions were incorrect.

"It means…" Dumbledore noted grimly "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

"But, Albus…" McGonagall stammered, staring at the Headmaster in alarm while Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth "surely… who?"

"The question is not who." Dumbledore countered, his eyes deadly serious as he continued to glance down at the still form of Colin. "The question is, how…"

* * *

><p><em>Herwald's POV...<em>

Herwald didn't know what expression was on McGonagall's face, but he could tell from the way she glanced at Madam Pomfrey that neither witch understood what the Headmaster meant either. What he DID understand, even as he settled in for the night, even as he rose the next morning, allowing Madam Pomfrey to poke and prod at him as he carefully spooned nourishing porridge into himself, all the while avoiding looking at the bed three rows down, was that Collin Creevey, the harmless, mildly annoying boy, who wanted nothing more than to send photos of him to his Muggle father, had been injured because he'd snuck out after hours to visit Herwald.

So far as Herwald was concerned, as he stormed out of the hospital wing, his face like a thundercloud and his emerald eyes flashing with anger, whoever had opened that blasted chamber had better enjoy it while they could, for Herwald intended to BURY them in it, along with whatever beastie they'd let out to do Salazar Slytherin's dirty work.

He was making his way to the library, figuring that the rest of the gang would be there by now, it was about the time they got together for study group, when he bumped into Percy Weasley, who blinked at the sight of him.

"Oh, hello Herwald." he greet, looking the Einzbern over carefully "Good to see you up and about, and congratulations for yesterday as well I imagine, as I understand it, Slytherin has just taken the lead for the House Cup."

"Thank you, I'd already heard." Herwald admitted, smiling at the elder Weasley, who he occasionally challenged to games of chess when they had free moments "You haven't seen Ron or Hermione, have you?"

"No, I haven't." Percy countered, his smile fading slightly at the mention of his youngest brother "I suppose that's the price of having a quiet younger brother, at least he isn't running around blowing up toilets like the twins."

Herald snorted, remembering to thank the twins for helping arrange Rin's gift from last year. According to Shirou, the Elder Tohsaka had taken one look at it before chucking it at the wall, followed by a volley of Gandr shots aimed at Shirou's head when he tried to stop her from blasting it.

Making his excuses to leave, the Einzbern slipped past the Weasley prefect, slipping quietly into the library, espying his friends near their usual table, Draco and Ron rising to meet him, Crabbe and Goyle pulling up a spare chair for him which he fell into gratefully, eager to hear what had been going on since he'd been out of the loop.

"Maybe whatever the monster is can make itself invisible?" Hermione suggested, looking up from a copy of 'Dangerous Beasts and Where to Find Them' by Newton Scamander "Or maybe it can disguise itself, pretend to be a suit of armour or something, I've read about Chameleon Ghouls…"

"You're reading too much into this Hermione." Ron muttered waving a hand dismissively at the idea "Think about it, if it could do all that, wouldn't there be MORE victims by now?"

"Then there's the fact it petrifies its victims." Draco agreed, looking up from helping Neville with his Potions assignment "According to legend, the 'heir' will unleash 'The Beast' in order to kill Muggleborns, if that's the case, why hasn't it done so?"

"That's true…" Hermione mused, her brows furrowing in thought "The mandrake potion has been around well before the Founders' time, so I doubt people died from it back then."

"I wanna know why it attacked a CAT." Goyle muttered, blinking as he realized he'd drawn everyone's attention "I mean, not that I like Mrs. Norris or anything, nasty bit of work her, always running around for Filch…"

"He has a point…" Hermione agreed, stunning everyone, including Goyle "And it narrows down the list of possible suspects, I doubt the faculty would dream of attacking Mrs. Norris, the only ones who have any quarrel with her are the students."

"Which basically leaves us with several hundred possible suspects, doesn't it?" Ron muttered sarcastically, glaring at Herwald in mock anger "Honestly mate, you attract trouble like nobody's business."

"Seems to be a trend." Herwald snorted, smiling self-mockingly, though on the inside he mentally resolved to track down whoever had opened the chamber even if it meant tearing all Four houses down around their ears. After all, he was an Einzbern, and to an Einzbern, obstacles weren't just for killing, they were for destroying, UTTERLY, without any hope of recovery.

Killing them was simply an added bonus

* * *

><p>Not very action packed, but it ties everything together.<p>

And Herwald finally comprehends his fame. Future Grail War Servant?

Spy: Well he IS ze Boy Who Lived.

Scout: Big freakin' deal.


	9. Chapter 9 The Duelling Club

Merry Christmas you miserable lot. Get anything good?

Spy: A few minor trinkets.

Heavy: I HAVE NEW WEAPON!

Engineer: Yippe-kee-ya-ki-ya-kai-yo!

Soldier: I read a book written by a magnificent bastard!

Kyugan: Well that's nice. In any case, the wheel of fate is turning, let's see what the continuum shift has wrought.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 9: The Duelling Club.<span>

By Monday, the whole school knew that Colin had been attacked while sneaking out to visit Herwald and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing. As a result the first years, understandably, were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, and the antics of her elder brothers, the twins to be more specific, wasn't helping the clearly unsettled redhead. She'd grown up hearing Hogwarts was the safest, most magical place in the world, it was rather world shattering to learn students were getting sent to the hospital wing every other week, and that was simply from accidents in class.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Herwald was hard put trying to keep Neville from buying a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail, citing that he wasn't in any danger in the first place, being a Pure-Blood, never mind the fact the only thing the 'totems' would be good for were paperweights, and possibly potions ingredients. He'd taken the crystal though, it'd make a decent gift for Rin with a bit of work.

In the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Herwald and his friends naturally decided to stick around, though Neville took a moment or two to consider, apparently weighing the consequences of being alone with his grandmother against the possibility of facing off against whatever was stalking Muggleborns in the halls. The fact the Gryffindor chose the latter only cemented Herwald's opinion to never cross the Longbottom Matriarch.

However, as unsettling as the situation was, Herwald's attention was diverted to trying to locate the spectral knight from the Deathday party, a task that was proving to be most difficult indeed, as none of the Hogwarts ghosts had no recollection of her.

"There are as many ghosts within the halls of Hogwarts as there are secrets, young Einzbern." The Bloody Baron informed him once, when he'd asked the Slytherin ghost for advice "If one cannot be found, it is because they do not WISH to be found."

Herwald had taken the Baron's words to heart, though it didn't stop him from asking around. The Fat Friar had been particularly eager to assist where he could, the Hufflepuff ghost having not lost his helpful nature even in death, while Sir Nicholas offered his full support, clearly appreciating Herwald's support during the Deathday party.

However, a week passed with no sign of the Knight, and with the lessons beginning to pick up before the winter holidays, Herwald soon found himself hard pressed to think of anything other than his homework.

It was after a rather informative lesson on Swelling Potions, and Herwald, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Spotting Hermione, Ron and Neville nearby, they decided to investigate.

"Seamus says they're starting a Duelling Club!" Ron revealed excitedly "First meeting tonight! I don't reckon Slytherin's Monster can duel, mind you, but getting a few pointers couldn't hurt."

"Certainly worth looking into." Draco agreed, nodding thoughtfully "I wonder who Dumbledore chose to teach it? I know first hand Professor Snape is a first class duellist, he's won awards for it, but you'd never get him to agree to it."

Ron and Neville sighed in relief at the revelation Snape wouldn't be teaching, they had enough of him in Potions as it was, and so at eight o'clock that evening the group, as one, hurried back to the Great Hall, only to find the long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead, the many faces of the moon depicted on it's surface. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"Have you heard anything about who'll be teaching us?" Hermione asked as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a duelling champion when he was young, maybe it'll be him."

Herwald could care less who the instructor was, so long as they were competent, fair, and above all, knew what they were doing. So naturally, when Gilderoy Lockhart walked onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum, the Einzbern let out a streak of German curses, of the non-magical variety unfortunately, that earned a few looks of intrigue from the Slytherins, who as mainly Purebloods had some mastery of foreign languages, and alarm from the rest of the crowd, including Lockhart, who took one look at the enraged Einzbern and stiffened, his winning smile faltering slightly, looking like it had been plastered on hastily.

"Ahem…yes…" the fop stammered, recovering nervously whilst waving an arm for silence, not that he needed to, for at that moment Severus Snape swept into the hall, dressed in his usual black robes which billowed behind him dramatically as he moved, like some great black bat, the students falling silent from his mere passing glance.

"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called out, taking advantage of his colleague's, Superior rather, arrival to seize control "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me?" he smiled as the students gazed up at him nervously, it was that or risk meeting Snape's annoyed glare "Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions." He preened pompously "For full details, see my published works."

Herwald scowled, glaring at the man, his emerald eyes like a pinpoint laser that was boring into Lockhart's brow, wishing fervently he possessed a form of Mystic Eye, preferably an offensive one, though he'd settle for Ilyasviel's eyes of binding if it meant shutting this drama-queen up.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart continued, either too dense to notice the focussed enmity Herwald was emitting, or adept at ignoring it, gesturing to the Potion's Master whilst flashing a wide smile "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself, and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin." He winked roguishly at the crowd "Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry, you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"He's a dead man…" Draco noted, a cold, mocking smile on his face that was matched by every Slytherin in the hall "Ten Galleons says he goes down with the first spell." He added, earning an affronted look from Hermione.

"Fifteen says he goes down before he can even CAST a spell." Herwald countered, Hermione looking at him in betrayal, even as the rest of the Slytherins, and surprisingly, every Ravenclaw and the Gryffindor Males began exchanging bets. Not surprisingly, the only ones to show any belief in Lockhart's skills were predominately Hufflepuffs, who were generally good sports, and the Gryffindor Females, who the least said about the better.

Herwald idly wondered if Snape was reinforcing his hearing to listen in, or if he was using Legilimency to see what the crowd was thinking, because for a split second he saw the Potion's Master's trademark 'I'm going to kill you, slowly, painfully, and then do unspeakable things to your corpse' sneer, which he'd been levelling at Lockhart's back, twitch up at the corners for a split second in a show of dark amusement.

One really had to marvel at Lockhart's ability to stand firm in the face of that smile, for while it wasn't NEARLY as intimidating as one of Grandfather Jubstacheit's, it still gave the impression to anything with a working brain in their head that they should have started running before they knew he was coming.

Truly, ignorance was bliss.

Unaware of the betting going on around them, or more likely, unaware that the odds were decidedly stacked against him, Lockhart turned to face Snape, the two Professors bowing to their opponent, or rather Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands no less, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably, his Wand held at his side like a dagger, before moving into a stance, his open hand extended before him, wand held over his head in a reverse fencing pose, whereas Lockhart assumed a traditional fencing stance, his off hand resting on his hip.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position." The fop revealed to the silent crowd "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that." Neville murmured, flinching at the look Hermione shot him, though Draco shot the boy an approving look while Crabbe and Goyle snickered openly.

The Professors moved after a count of three, or rather, the minute the word Three had left Lockhart's lips Snape's arms came down like a streak of black lightning, the Potion's Master crying out "Expelliarmus!" as a flash of dazzling scarlet light erupted from the tip of his wand, blasting Lockhart off his feet, sending the fop flying backwards off the stage, flipping ass-over-tea-kettle through the air, only to smash comically into the wall, sliding down to sprawl head first onto the floor.

* * *

><p><em>As Lockhart picks himself off the floor...<em>

"Do you think he's all right?" Hermione squealed, dancing on her tiptoes in concern, even as the Slytherins, and a few members of other houses, broke into cheers.

"Who cares?" the boys replied as one, Herwald and Draco accepting their winnings with matching grins, even Ron having made a killing, as he'd bet that Lockhart would make a tremendous ass of himself.

"Bet you anything he's going to try and cover that up by saying he LET Snape blast him." The redhead suggested, only to flinch at the glare Hermione sent his way, though he soon ignored it as people began taking his bet, just as Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet, his hair, visible now that his hat had fallen off, standing on end as if he'd been electrocuted.

"Well, there you have it!" the fop declared, tottering back onto the platform like a mildly concussed bar crawler "That was a Disarming Charm, as you see I've lost my wand…" he looked around for the missing piece of wood, only to be disappointed "Erm, has anyone seen it?"

Herwald smirked, the missing wand clutched in his right hand, having snatched it out of the air before anyone had noticed, as they were too busy watching the man's well-anticipated flight courtesy of Air-Snape. He half considered snapping it, or better still, destroying it, it would take no more than a tightening of his grip, but he relented in the end. For one thing, he still wasn't back to full strength after the encounter with Dobby's Bludger, his arms were healed but his reserves had taken a serious dive, and were only about halfway filled even after a week, so he didn't dare use alchemy until he was certain he hadn't fried his circuits.

For another...well, it'd make a nice souvenir by which to remember the year, he might even have it gilded and sent to Snape as a Christmas Present.

"Ah well, I'm sure it'll turn up eventually." Lockhart stammered, trying not to look too put out, though his smile was rather strained "As I was saying, the Disarming Charm, handy little defence, and an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape." He smiled daringly at the Potion's Master "But if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy, however I felt it would be instructive to let them see…"

Lockhart's heavily stunted survival instincts must have gotten a nice jump-start earlier, because the man took one look at the positively MURDEROUS expression on the Potions Master's face and wisely turned his attention back to the students with a wide smile that didn't cover his nervous eyes "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me?"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, while Snape paired Draco off against Ron, Herwald would have taken either Crabbe or Goyle, but apparently the professors weren't about to have housemates pointing wands at one another, and so Herwald found himself facing off against either Fred or George Weasley, the Einzbern resolving, come hell or high water, that he'd learn how to differentiate between the twins or die trying, while Hermione was paired with Millicent Bulstrode, a large Slytherin girl with an unfortunately large heavy jaw which jutted aggressively outwards, who did not return the Gryffindor's weak smile.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart called out, having scampered back onto the platform, safely out of the range of fire of any miscast spells "And bow!" he waited while the students did so, though the Gryffindors and Slytherins were wary of showing TOO much respect "Wands at the ready!" the fop shouted "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents, and ONLY to disarm them, we don't want any accidents, on three: one, two, three-!"

* * *

><p><em>THREE! Minutes later...<em>

Herwald had to admit, Fred or George, whichever twin it was, turned out to be surprisingly quick on the draw. Apparently the twins' reflexes as beaters served them well in duelling. However, Herwald had been trained in combat since he was six years old, had fought in a Grail war when he was TEN, and so could make out the subtle motions of their shoulders, and had his wand aimed at his opponent before the redhead could even open his mouth.

"EXPELIARMUS!" he yelled, the spell hitting the twin so hard he doubled over and actually flew back several feet, though unlike with Snape with Lockhart, Herwald hadn't been trying to injure his opponent, so rather than flipping backwards and crashing in the wall, George, (or was it Fred?) simply fell flat on his back, blinking dazedly up at Herwald as the Einzbern stepped forward to help him up.

"Blimey mate…" he muttered, rubbing his chest with a good natured expression "You're not half fast on the draw aren't you? With Reflexes like that I'm almost glad you never tried out for the Slytherin team."

"Quidditch is Draco's area of expertise." Herwald noted, smiling wryly at the redhead, who returned the grin, the two taking their stances again, only to frown as a fight had apparently broken out between Ron and Draco, the two having apparently given up trying to disarm one another, and were now hurling actual curses.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, even as Draco sank to his knees, Ron's Rictumsempra having hit him full on in the stomach, the Malfoy heir fighting off the tickling charm long enough to launch "Tarantallegra!" at Ron's knees, the redhead letting out a yelp as his legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep. "Stop! Stop!"

"Finite Incantatem!" Snape yelled, the Potion's Master retaining his cool, cancelling out the spells, allowing Ron to recover control of his legs and Draco to cease his uncontrolled laughter, the two looking up at the hook-nosed professor warily.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting, while nearby Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor, Crabbe and Goyle, surprisingly, stepped forward to pry their housemate off, apparently deeming that since Hermione was Herwald's friend, she was theirs too.

"Dear, dear…" Lockhart muttered, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels with wide eyes "Up you go, Macmillan…Careful there, Miss Fawcett… Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second...I think I'd better teach you all how to BLOCK unfriendly spells…" he added as an afterthought standing flustered in the midst of the hall, glancing hopefully at Snape, only to look away quickly when the Potion's Master's black eyes glinted "Let's have a volunteer pair…Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart." Snape countered, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat, looking down his hooked nose at the round-faced Gryffindor "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." He ignored Neville's embarrassed flush "How about Malfoy and Potter? At the very least we can be certain they won't actively try to murder each other."

"Excellent idea!" Lockhart declared, though he tensed slightly at the word 'Potter', clearly wanting nothing to do with Herwald, a sentiment the Einzbern shared, even as the two friends and housemates moved to the middle of the hall, the crowd backing away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you…"

* * *

><p>Herwald ignored him, the Einzbern standing before his friend, the two mimicking Professor Snape's tense, yet ready stance, bowing slightly towards one another, before stepping back, both assuming the Potion's Master's earlier stance, wand arm raised over their heads, the other held out as if to block an oncoming spell.<p>

"Scared?" Malfoy asked, his tone teasing, though there was a hint of competitiveness there that Herwald didn't miss. Malfoy's were notoriously competitive as a whole, if they couldn't beat someone they'd hound them until they could.

"I would ask the same." Herwald countered, his tone bemused, for while the Malfoy's were a competitive breed, the Einzberns had discovered new levels of stubbornness, a trait developed from their never winning a single Grail War since the first over 200 years ago.

However, when it came to magical duelling, Draco had a slight edge, Herwald was simply too used to relying on alchemy to get the job done, which is why, even as the Einzbern managed to get off another Disarming Charm, sending his friend stumbling backwards on his arse, he was still caught by surprise when a long black snake shot out of the end of Draco's wand, falling heavily onto the stage floor between them and raising it's fanged head to strike.

"Oh bloody hell…" Draco whispered, his voice audible even over the screams of the crowd as they backed away from the stage, the Malfoy heir looking horrified at what he'd inadvertently summoned "Herwald, don't move! That's a Black Mamba! It can take down an elephant!"

"Don't move, Potter." Snape ordered, the Potion's Master's gaze locked on the deadly serpent, his wand coming up with a flick "I'll get rid of it…"

But Herwald wasn't listening, his emerald eyes were locked on the serpent, which continued to hiss at him menacingly._ "Where am I?"_ it demanded, glaring at him with fangs bared _"How did I get here? Did you bring me here? Ssssend me back right now or sssso help me I'll bite you!"_

"Calm down." Herwald muttered, the rest of the hall forgotten as he matched looks with the serpent, rather intrigued to find it could talk "Proffessor Snape will send you back in a second…no need to bite anyone…"

_"You ssspeak!"_ the mamba hissed, and Herwald got the impression it was startled as it clamped it's mouth shut, the serpentine eyes looking at him with alarmed curiosity.

"Of course I speak." Herwald countered, quirking a brow at the serpent in disbelief "I should be asking how YOU can speak. Are you a familiar of some sort?"

_"How can thisss be?"_ the Mamba muttered, tilting it's head from side to side in order to get a better look at the boy_ "The line wasss broken…we sssensssed it so…yet here you ssstand…a ssspeaker…"_ it paused briefly _"Let me tassste you…"_

Herwald frowned, wondering if the Serpent meant it wanted to bite him, only to recall that snakes didn't so much have a sense of smell, but rather a highly developed sense of taste, the sensory glands in their tongue allowing them to detect prey from miles away, and even tell the temperature. Kneeling down, he extended his hand to the snake, who stretched forwards, forked tongue coming out to flick against his skin briefly.

_"Ssstrange…"_ it hissed slowly_ "you do not possess the blood of a speaker…but I can tassste the gift…"_ the serpentine head flicked to his wand _"and you sssmell of an old one…"_

"Do you mean Medusa?" Herwald asked, and the serpent's head flicked to his face "She's a friend, well, a friend of a friend really; she gave me a hair for the core of my wand."

_"You wield a favour from an old one?_" the serpent exclaimed, and Herwald swore he detected a hint of wonderment in that serpentine voice _"Who are you, ssspeaker?"_

Before Herwald could answer, the Serpent vanished in a puff of black smoke, the Einzbern looking up to see Professor Snape standing over him, a calculating expression on his face that made the boy's skin crawl, or did he appreciate the ominous muttering all around the walls, which had him so tense he almost hexed Ron and Draco when the boys grabbed him by the robes and tried to drag him off the stage.

"Come on." Ron urged him, the pair steering him out of the hall, Hermione Neville, Crabbe and Goyle hurrying along after them, the larger boys glaring at anyone that made as if to follow them, pulling the doors shut behind them.

* * *

><p><em>Outside the Great Hall...<em>

"I can walk, thank you." Herwald muttered, the Einzbern looking at his friends in annoyed disbelief as they tried to get him to follow them "Could anyone care to tell me just what's going on?"

"I could ask YOU that." Draco countered, the Malfoy Heir staring at his friend as if seeing him for the first time "Why didn't you tell me you were a Parselmouth?"

Herwald blinked, looking at his friend as if seeing him for the first time, unable to comprehend what he'd just been asked. Parseltongue was a unique magical language, part of the 'gift of tongues' class, which allowed the speaker to converse, easily, with snakes, serpents and their ilk. Like all magical languages, it was notoriously rare, passed down through select magical bloodlines as part of their inheritance.

"So that wasn't a familiar you summoned?" he asked Draco excitedly, unable to help himself, his Inner Magus literally leaping up and kicking his heels for joy at the idea that he might possess a rare magical gift "I was actually talking to a snake?"

"More like hissing and spitting that actually talking." Ron countered, the redhead looking both alarmed and unsettled at Herwald's look of glee "It's not something to be proud of mate, this is bad. VERY BAD."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Weasley on this one, Herwald." Draco muttered, looking unsettled, though whether it was at the admission or the fact his friend could converse with snakes was debatable "I'm afraid you're going to face a lot of prejudice from this." He looked Herwald in the eye "The ability to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent."

"Exactly." Ron muttered, the youngest Weasley Brother looking grim as he said it "And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something."

"Oh Scheiße not more of this Heir of Slytherin bullshit…" Herwald muttered, his good mood souring instantly as he pinched the bridge of his nose "Bloody Englanders, I swear there I times I wonder why I bothered coming back here at all…"

"I know it's a lot to take in Herwald." Hermione insisted, looking at her friend in concern whilst patting his shoulder "But I'm afraid it's only understandable, what with everything that's been going on."

"That's not what I'm bothered about." Herwald muttered, waving a hand dismissively "I could care less if they think I'm Slytherin's Heir or something that slipped through his contraceptive potions." he continued on, ignoring the snorts of his male friends and Hermione's flush "What vexes me is that they consider Parseltongue to be a DARK gift." He waved a hand at their looks of confusion "Think about it, one of the most famous Parseltongues in Mundane and Magical history was St. Patrick, Patron Saint of Ireland." He continued as their eyes widened in surprise "Though I suppose the fact he was recognised by the church would explain why he's not so openly known for his gift, more than likely he was stripped from any magical records during the crusades. My point is that if a Patron Saint can be a Parseltongue, I don't see how it can be a 'Dark' Magic."

"You'll have a hard time convincing everyone else of that." Draco muttered, though he looked intrigued by his friend's logic "The fact you're a Slytherin yourself is already a factor against you."

* * *

><p>And so Herwald get's a little christmas Prezzie of his own.<p>

Spy: Sssssacre bleu!

Kyugan: You did that on purpose.

Spy: I don't know vat you're talking about...hissssss.


	10. Chapter 10 Dark Developments

A very belated birthday update for my good pal Sketchfan.

Let's see what happens next eh?

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 10: Dark Developments<span>.

Draco's words proved true, for Herwald got the distinct feeling that he was being watched even more warily every time he ventured out into the corridors. The First years had taken to backing up against the walls whenever he passed, while the older years were eyeing him with their wands held tight in their hands, as if expecting him to start spewing snakes out of his mouth or some nonsense like that.

It was, frankly, rather annoying. Herwald knew first hand he wasn't a descendent of Slytherin, it would have shown up on his family tree when he visited Gringotts last year to claim his vaults, and he highly doubted the Einzberns would have let him go so easily if they'd suspected he had ties to one of Hogwarts' founders.

On top of that, the spectral Knight from Sir Nicholas' Deathday Party had apparently vanished, along with all the other guests, and no matter how hard Herwald prodded, the other ghosts could give no clues as to her identity or location. True, Herwald has his suspicions, as King Arthur was rumoured to have had several children, not all with Guinevere, which could have been born as a result of the prank Merlin played on the King of Knights shortly after the Round Table order was formed. The fact the spectre had been present at the battle of Camlann narrowed things down even further, few of Arthur's supposed offspring had lived to see that awful battle.

What he found truly vexing, however, was the fact no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to speak in Parseltongue consciously. In the end he deduced he needed to be face-to-face with a snake to do it, but Draco was proving most stubborn in regards to assisting in the experiment, point blank refusing to cast the spell he'd used to summon the snake, nor would he teach Herwald how to do so himself, apparently under orders from Snape, and so far his search into the Library had turned up nothing.

He was just considering using the Potter Ring to sneak into the forbidden section, as he highly doubted he'd get a Teacher to sign the permission slip he needed, when he espied a group of Hufflepuffs, sitting at the back of the library, as the last Herbology Class for the term had been cancelled by the Blizzard the night before, their heads close together, so deep in their conversation they didn't notice him lurking nearby.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. It's only a matter of time before Potter picks out his next victim, so it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while." He sighed dramatically "Of course Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" a girl with blonde pigtails asked anxiously, Hannah Abbot if Herwald's memory served, a pleasant girl that occasionally partnered with Neville in Herbology.

"Hannah, he's a Parselmouth." The stout boy sighed sagely "Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."

'Bloody Englanders…' Herwald muttered, fighting the urge to curse aloud in German, as that would give the game away. There truly were times he regretted ever accepting the Hogwarts invitation, and this was one of them.

"And besides," Ernie continued, the stout boy raising a finger authoritatively "remember how Dumbledore called him out when Mrs. Norris was attacked?" he continued as the girls blinked at the memory "Then that first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know he's been attacked."

"He always seems so nice, though…" Hannah countered, looking uncertain "And, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"

"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who." Ernie pointed out, Herwald quirking a brow as the stout little prick actually raised a valid point, one Herwald kept repeating, to no effect, whenever the matter was brought up, the Einzbern reinforcing his hearing to be able to listen in, only to be disappointed with the little bastard's trail of logic "I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper "That's probably why You- Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want ANOTHER Dark Lord competing with him…I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?"

"I'm told I give a simply MAGICAL massage." Herwald voiced aloud from behind the boy's chair, the Einzbern unable to help smirking coldly as 'Ernie' leapt out of his seat with a yelp, the Hufflepuffs gaping at him in alarm, as they'd been so immersed in their discussion it must have seemed he'd appeared out of thin air "Hello, Frau Abbot." He offered to Hannah, before nodding towards her friend "And Susan Bones isn't it? I trust your Aunt is keeping well?"

"What do you want Potter?" Ernie demanded, cutting off Susan's reply, the stout boy trying to look intimidating, and failing miserably thanks to the way his voice quavered.

"I understand she's been the head of Magical Law Enforcement for quite some time now." Herwald persisted, ignoring the boy and instead focusing on Susan, who blinked at the honest interest in his eyes "Do you think you could pass on a message for me? I know it's terribly rude to ask, but I've been looking high and low for an unabridged copy of the Laws and Ordinances of Magical Britain but all I seem to come up with are the ministry doctored version that's been out of date for some time now…"

"I'll warn you now there's no point in you getting any ideas." Ernie pointed out hastily, looking rather annoyed that he was being so effectively ignored "I'll have you know I can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and-!"

"How very fascinating." Herwald replied drolly "Yet hardly impressive, as I understand it, the Bones have been around for at least TEN generations, or at least those are the generations in which a Bones has sat as Head of Magical Law Enforcement." He nodded at the flushing girl "And my adopted family holds a position as one of the Five most prestigious, ancient bloodlines in Europe, both Magical and otherwise."

He didn't feel like going into his OWN family tree, the less people knew about him the better. The Einzberns, however, were an infamous Magus family, whose name carried a lot of clout. Few would dare cross an Einzbern for fear of bringing the wrath of the entire clan, more accurately, that of Grandfather Jubstacheit, down on their head like the sword of Damocles.

"And while I have your attention," he muttered, turning to eye the sputtering Hufflepuff with a look that was equal parts disdain and disinterest "Ernie, was it? I'll have you know that up until the moment Draco summoned that serpent I had as much knowledge of my being a Parseltongue as YOU apparently have concerning the skill itself." He quirked a brow to silence the boy's protests "My adopted family's castle is located in the Black Forest of Germany, where it is cold, almost freezing, almost all year around, hardly the ideal location for Snakes or reptiles in general to frequent, wouldn't you agree?"

Ernie blinked, and looked like he was trying to counter the Einzbern's argument, but Herwald mercilessly pressed on, refusing to give the little blowhard moment to BREATH.

"And as for, as you put it, 'Good' Parseltongues, you need look no further than Saint Patrick ofIreland." Herwald supplied, earning a look of shock from the Hufflepuffs "Honestly, how else do you think he managed to convince EVERY SINGLE snake in the country to just bugger off? His gift was so proficient even the Church had to recognize it as a miracle, and this was during a time when Witch Hunts, if you'll pardon the term ladies, were still very popular."

Susan and Hannah flinched at the term, though not as much as Ernie, who was starting to look decidedly out of his depth. Understandable really, as debate was merely a 'civil' form of warfare, one which the Einzberns were quite proficient in. You didn't rise to become included amongst the top five magical lineages simply by casting the spells that made the peoples fall down. Diplomacy was the velvet glove that cloaked the fist of power, and considering the sheer amount of power the Einzbern name wielded, it stood to reason those who bore the name were as deadly in a debate as they were in a duel.

"So I'll thank you to keep your slanderous remarks to yourself, Ernest." He finished, emerald eyes as cold as ice as he smiled at the boy "While I'm sure the Einzberns would enjoy a nice family feud, we get so few challenges these days, I can't imagine it ending well for you."

* * *

><p><em>With Herwald...<em>

Ernie went ramrod straight, his eyes wide and his face paling rapidly as the blood leached from it so quickly it was a wonder he hadn't suffered a stroke. Feuds between magical families were never a good thing, some were still going on at that very moment, though in the United Kingdom they'd devolved to simply undermining one another's business prospects, whereas in mainland Europe it was still possible for entire generations of Magi to be wiped out because of someone saying the wrong thing at the wrong time within earshot of the wrong person.

As such, the idea of Ernie, whose family could only be traced back Nine Generations, inadvertently starting a family feud with the Einzberns, whose ancestry made them one of the Top Five in Europe, was a terrifying prospect.

Work done, Herwald offered his farewells to the silent girls, patting Ernie cheerfully on the shoulder, before turning on his heel and sweeping out of the library, nodding politely at Madam Pince, who looked up from polishing the gilded cover of a large spellbook to give him the slightest of nods in return, as he was always polite and quite, a rarity in students.

'Knowing that chatterbox the word should spread through Hufflepuff like a plague.' Herwald muttered in amusement, a slight spring to his step as he moved through the halls 'If my estimates are right, then by the end of the week all this Heir nonsense will have dissolved and life will get back on track.'

"Guten Tag, Hagrid." He greeted, rounding the corner and smiling up at the half-giant, who was looking decidedly more mountainous as a result of the snow piled on top of his black woollen balaclava and moleskin overcoat "Another Rooster?"

"Second one killed this term…" the half-giant muttered grimly "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop." He peered closer at Harry from under his thick, snow flecked eyebrows "Yeh're sure looking rather pleased, somethin' happen I should know about?"

"It's nothing." Herwald assured the man, chuckling in amusement "I'd best be heading on Hagrid. I've Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books."

"Righ' Ye are…" Hagrid acknowledged, the two parting ways in the hall, Herwald moving to go down the stairs when he espied a familiar face lurking around the corner.

"You!" the alchemist in training yelped, gaping at the spectral Knight, who flinched, before floating backwards up the hall behind him "Wait!"

"Harry?" Hagrid asked, looking at the Einzbern in concern, but Herwald was already moving, racing up the stairs, intent on talking to Arturia's spectral doppelganger, so intent that when he was halfway down the passage, when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.

"Scheiße!" he swore, pushing himself up, looking around desperately but the ghost had once again pulled off a perfect escape "Verdammt! Who zur Hölle left this mop lying around? I swear if this was Peeves 's doing…!"

He trailed off, as his questing hand had touched what he'd tripped over, and it most certainly didn't feel like a mop handle. It was too thick for one, and covered in Hogwarts robes, Herald looking down to see Justin Finch-Fletchley lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

And he wasn't alone this time, for lying next to the boy, was Sir Nicholas 'Nearly Headless' de Mimsey-Porpington, the Gryffindor ghost's former transparent, pearly-white form now black and smoky, the Gryffindor Ghost floating immobile and horizontal six inches off the floor, his head was half off and his face, what little Herwald could make out anyway, frozen in an expression of shock that seemed almost identical to Justin's.

_"Ignotus…"_ Herwald breathed, activating the Potter Ring instinctively and backing away from the bodies, well, one body and one spectre, his circuits primed and ready, though he winced at the slight pain that shot through them, as it seemed he hadn't recovered fully yet.

'Alright…come on you Schwein-Hund…' he muttered, popping his joints, his eyes flicking in all directions, including the oft-forgotten ceiling, only to blink as he espied a veritable stampede of spiders climbing over themselves to put some distance between them and the body, though his attention was soon diverted when the door right next to him slammed open, Herwald's invisible hand lashing out and grabbing his assumed attacker by the face, only to blink as he passed right through Peeves the Poltergeist, who pulled up short at the contact.

"Who's there?" he demanded, flipping round and glaring at the corridor suspiciously whilst upside down, only to freeze as he spotted Justin and Sir Nicholas, his little eyes bulging as he flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and screamed "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Herwald swore, ducking into the room Peeves had recently vacated, not bothering to close the door, as that would simply draw attention, even as door after door flew crashed open along the corridor, the occupants flooding out, the Einzbern looking on from the safety of a corner while they milled about in confusion, several of them stepping in Sir Nicholas only for McGonagall to come running, followed by her own class, the Deputy Headmistress setting off a loud bang from the end of her wand to restore silence to the corridor, ordering the students back to their classes.

No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene, his face going decidedly pale at the sight of his friend. "Oh Merlin he's struck again…" the portly Hufflepuff breathed, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he realized what the little prick was about to say "It's Potter, he was just in the library with us, he must've cornered Justin in the halls-!"

"That will do, Macmillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply, silencing the boy and sending a decidedly cold look at Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, grinning wickedly, as the Poltergeist loved causing, and witnessing chaos "Peeves, go away before I fetch the Baron!"

"Spoilsport!" the Poltergeist muttered, blowing a raspberry at the woman before zooming down the hall backwards, disappearing around the corner and out of sight, while McGonagall ordered Ernie to make himself useful, summoning a fan and ordering the boy to get Sir Nicholas up the stairs, enlisting the aid of Professor's Flitwick and Sinistra to carry Justin up to the hospital wing, with Ernie bringing up the rear.

* * *

><p><em>As the crowd buggers off...<em>

Herwald stayed in the room until he was CERTAIN he wasn't about to run into anyone, after which time he made a point of walking out of the boy' bathroom on the other side of the castle, in plain view of several Hufflepuff seniors, and unnervingly, a certain Ravenclaw first year, so as to put himself as far from the crime scene as possible.

Not that this did much, as the double attack on Justin and Sir Nicholas had succeeded where the those on Mrs. Norris and Collin had failed, transforming the hitherto been nervousness that permeated the halls into honest to God panic. What made matters worse was that Sir Nicholas was a ghost, and as such shouldn't have been hurt by ANYTHING, yet somehow he'd been struck down with the same ailment as the other victims, though the Baron assured the Slytherin's he'd be back off his feet in no time.

Herwald, naturally, had thrown himself into his research into Slytherin's supposed monster with a little more focus now. After all, there were only so many creatures out there that could harm a ghost, Servants for example, were ghosts given flesh, but could revert to Spirit form at will with certain exceptions.

One of the few good things about the attack was that it pretty much emptied the school, the stampede of students looking to book seats on the Hogwarts Express almost overwhelming McGonagall, who in the end asked the other heads of house to pitch in.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron muttered, the group having gotten together in the Library, as usual, getting a head start n their Christmas assignments in order to focus on researching Slytherin's Monster and the Chamber later "What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

Herwald really could've cared less, that most of the students were leaving, as he was rapidly nearing the end of his patience thanks to their incessant skirting around him in the corridors, as though he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison, the groundless muttering and pointing whenever he passed, and the hisses they'd send towards his back in a bid to get a rise out of him, only serving to remind him that he STILL couldn't activate Parseltongue consciously.

Fortunately Fred and George proved quite adept at keeping the Einzbern from exploding, literally and figuratively, the twins having taken to marching ahead of him, shouting "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin!' and 'Seriously evil wizard coming through!' down the halls.

It was stupid, annoying, and childish, and Herwald was sure to get them back for it using Alchemy to turn a patch of water on their seats into syrup, the twins having to cut themselves free to escape the grand hall, and spent the rest of the day with their arses hanging out of the seat of their robes until they could be fixed.

Percy, naturally, was deeply disapproving of this behaviour, as was Ginny, who wailed every time the twins would jokingly ask Herwald who he was planning to attack next, all the while warding him off with various holy symbols and large cloves of garlic. Herwald found it all rather amusing, and a pleasant distraction. After all, had the twins NOT been around the Einzbern probably would have snapped ages ago.

At last, however, the winter term ended, a deep silence descending on the castle, along with thick, lazy clouds of snow that would have seemed Gloomy had Herwald not spent most of his life in the Einzbern Castle. As it was, he found the whole thing rather peaceful, the young Lord of Potter spending his time with Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, the Weasley's Neville and Hermione, playing games of Exploding Snap, the odd game of chess, and practicing their duelling skills, whenever they weren't in the library that is.

Time passed, and soon enough Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Herald received an alchemical primer from Draco, a thoughtful gift if there ever was one, almost as thoughtful as the deluxe broom-care kit he'd purchased for the boy to care for his Nimbus 2001. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Herwald softened by melting on the fire before sharing with the others, hoping the Groundskeeper enjoyed his barrel of mead, purchased once again thanks to Gringotts for a modest fee.

Ron had given him a book called Flying with the Cannons, a book of interesting facts about the redhead's favourite Quidditch team, while Herwald had bought the boy a signed, autographed photo of said team, signed 'To Ron', thanks in part to his own fame, and Gringotts once again. Judging by the boy's look of euphoria, he might as well have given him the moon.

Hermione had bought him a luxurious eagle-feather quill, while Herwald has supplied the girl with an old, well-preserved book on famous witches and the names they'd made for themselves. Neville seemed VERY pleased with the Herbology book he'd gotten the boy, so much so he felt guilty for only buying Herwald sweets.

Surprisingly, amongst his presents that year was a hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake. Apparently, according to Fred and George, only close friends and Family rated a Weasley sweater, so he must have made quite the impression on the matriarch if she thought to include him amongst her own brood. He made a note to send her and Arthur a gift, possibly a book on Mundane appliances for Arthur, though he'd have to ask Percy what would be an acceptable present for his mother, as he doubted Ron would know, and he certainly wasn't going to ask the twins.

His gifts from home were no less appreciated either, consisting of more Manga from Shirou, a scarf from Sakura that clashed with his Weasley jumper, though he wore it anyway, another alchemical text from Rin, courtesy of her father's library, a perfectly preserved wind-up pocket watch from the Flamels, and a picture from Ilyasviel, showing her, 'Tiger' and Taiga posing in winter clothing on the woman's scooter, Leysritt pulling a nervous Sella into the shot.

As always, Christmas Dinner at Hogwarts was a sight to remember. The Great Hall looked magnificent, a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees lining the walls, with thick streamers of holly and mistletoe criss-crossing the ceiling, from which fell enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry to the touch, covering them like mountains of dandruff within seconds.

Dumbledore started the festivities off by leading them all through some of his favourite carols, Hagrid's booming voice growing increasingly louder with every goblet of mead-enhanced eggnog he consumed, while Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at.

Draco couldn't help making a crack at how his new sweater clashed with his scarf, but Herwald refused to rise to his friend's good-natured baiting, instead focussing on stuffing himself on Christmas pudding, his eyes briefly meeting those of Professor Snape, whose lip curled as he toasted him with his wineglass, the Potion's Master having apparently approved of his Christmas Present. Herwald was glad, as it had cost a pretty penny for him to get the Goblin's to bronze Lockhart's wand without asking too many questions, never mind the cost of getting them to make a stand and plaque to go with it.

His good mood was ruined however, when the post arrived, Draco's family owl dropping a letter which contained a clipping from the Daily Prophet, the Malfoy heir opening it, only to bite his lip at the contents, showing it to Herwald hesitantly.

* * *

><p><em>Now is letter reading time!<em>

_INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car._

_Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation._

_"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."_

_Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them._

* * *

><p><em>Back to story bay-bees!<em>

"I didn't know." Draco assured Herwald, who'd looked up at him with a frown "Father must have thought I'd get a kick out of it…I suppose I WOULD have if it weren't for everything that's happened."

Herwald nodded, folding up the article and handing it back to Draco, who made sure to burn it later, back in the safety of the common room. Had Herwald not befriended Draco in First Year, had he not patched things up with Ron, and had he not forced them together in order to save the Philosopher's Stone, who knew what the boys' relationship would've been like.

"He DID give me a little more information though." Draco admitted, eager to change the subject "About the last time the Chamber was opened? Apparently they caught the culprit last time. He didn't know who it was, or if he does he won't tell me, but he DID say the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled." He sighed bitterly "Knowing our luck they're probably still in Azkaban….if they're still alive."

"So a dead end either way." Herwald muttered bitterly, as he highly doubted the Wizarding Prison Warder would pass allow them to interview a suspected murderer, and while the old saying 'Dead Men Tell No Tales' wasn't necessarily true, what with Ghosts and Servants and the like running about, he doubted such a ghost would've stuck around long after passing on, and seeing as though this was the first many had heard of the Chamber, it was unlikely the former 'Heir' would ever rise as a Servant, as fame played a large role in the process.

Not that he was deterred, no sir. The old saying that the wall had eyes ran doubly true when there were ghosts in the halls after all.

* * *

><p>Well, things are certainly getting a little more interesting.<p>

Spy: But ov course.

Medic: A creature zat can kill ghosts? Zat would've been handy ven ze Horseless Headless Horsmann waz running around.


	11. Chapter 11: The Very Secret Diary

Another chapter, in celebration of Fate/Zero the anime.

Caster is a super freak.

Gilles: Cthulu Fhtagan

Kyugan: Wha? GAH!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 11: The Very Secret Diary.<span>

Several weeks later and the spring term began anew, the students returning warily to their normal routines, meaning Herwald had to get used to being gawked ant and whispered about every time he stepped out into the corridors. Thankfully, he rarely travelled alone, as every day, after lessons, the group would get together to work on their homework and try to figure out just what the hell was attacking the students.

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron asked out loud one session ignoring Hermione's annoyed look as he scowled in disgust "Honestly, does he EVER shut up about winning that smile award?"

Herwald snorted, ignoring the predictable argument that followed between the youngest Weasley Brother and Hermione in favour of helping Neville and Goyle comprehend Snape's assignment, while Draco tutored Crabbe. He was just going over exactly WHY you had to add the correct number of rat tails to a Hair Raising Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.

"That's Filch…" Ron muttered, argument with Hermione forgotten as they glanced up at the ceiling tensely "You don't think someone else's been attacked?"

Herwald didn't bother to reply, he merely leapt to his feet, the others following suit, tracking Filch's echo up the stairs, only to pull up short as they watched him shaking his fists at the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Even more work for me!" the caretaker snarled, a touch hysterically "Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore…!"

Herwald motioned for them to fall back, listening carefully with reinforced ears as the man's footsteps receded down the out-of-sight corridor, waiting for the sound of a door slamming in the distance before motioning for the others to break from cover.

They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about, a great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, the students grimacing as they finally heard the ghost's wails echoing off the bathroom walls now that Filch was gone. "Now what's up with her?" said Ron muttered, the redhead eyeing the clinically depressed ghost's haunt with a look of disdain "Don't tell me she tried suicide again…"

"The baron doesn't approve of her at ALL." Draco admitted with a grunt, as if that explained all you needed to know about the ghost "Says she's an embarrassment, but because she died on Hogwarts soil, she has every right to be here."

"We should still see what's wrong." Hermione insisted, stepping forwards with her robes held gingerly in her hands, the rest of the boys hesitating until Herwald followed her, the group ignoring the OUT OF ORDER sign and entering the bathroom.

Inside was a mess, the cables having been extinguished by the wave of water that had wash flooded the bathroom, the group proceeding awkwardly inwards until they located Myrtle, the ghost crying at the top of her lungs, or whatever it was Ghosts used, in her usual toilet. "Who's that?" she glugged miserably, glaring up at them disdainfully from the bowl "Come to throw something else at me?"

"It's only us, Frau Myrtle." Herwald assured the deceased girl, quirking a brow at her words as he leant in for a better look "Did someone throw something at you? Is that why you're upset?"

"Well of course I am!" Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Who WOULDN'T be upset? Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…!"

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you." Ron countered before anyone could think to stop him "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

Draco palmed his face in exasperation, a sentiment that Herwald could relate to, as Ron once again displayed the patented Weasley 'Foot-In-Mouth' technique, his poor choice of words causing Myrtle to puff up in fury. "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it!" The ghost shrieked mockingly, glaring at them all the while "Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"You're quite correct, Frau Myrtle." Herwald assured her soothingly, even as Draco slapped a hand over Ron's mouth to keep the redhead from digging himself a deeper hole "My friend meant no disrespect. You didn't happen to SEE who threw the book at you?

"I didn't…" Myrtle muttered, looking calmer, though still angry "I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head." She glared over the boy's shoulder "It's over there, it got washed out…"

Herwald turned, following Myrtle's extended finger to peer under the sink, where a small, thin book lay. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom, the Einzbern thanking the ghost for her help, leaving her to her moaning as he advanced on the soggy stationary.

"Easy mate…" Ron called out sharply, the youngest of the Weasley brothers swatting aside Draco's palm with a look of mild annoyance, even as he gripped Herwald's shoulder "It could be dangerous."

"Oh come of it Weasley…" Draco muttered, the scion of hous Malfoy looking honestly amused at the redhead's paranoia "It's hardly a cursed book if someone tried to get rid of it by flushing it down the toilet."

"You'd be surprised." Ron muttered, the redhead eying the book apprehensively "Dad told me about some of the books the Ministry's confiscated…there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch inBathhad a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And…"

"It's a pocket Diary." Herwald muttered, snapping the boy out of his rant reluctantly, as it was a good look into just what Arthur Weasley's department did, pointing to the back cover as he spoke "A simple, MUNDANE Pocket Diary by the looks of it, like something you'd buy at a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London. Whoever owned this was a Muggle-born."

"Any names?" Draco asked, quirking a brow at his friend, as he hadn't noticed Herwald move, Ron blinking numbly at his the Einzbern for ignoring his warnings, even as Herwald flipped through the book with a frown.

"Says here this belongs to a T.M Riddle…" he muttered, turning the sodden pages warily with delicate fingers to avoid ripping one, his emerald eyes narrowing analytically "He doesn't appear to have written in it."

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away then?" Neville wondered curiously, the Round-faced heir of Longbottom looking VERY confused, along with Crabbe and Goyle "I mean…if he never wrote in it…"

"Maybe they DID write in it." Hermione countered, her eyes lighting up as she took the book from Herwald excitedly "Think about it, why would he flush an empty diary? He could have placed a spell on it to hide the contents."

"He did, it's a damn good one." Herwald pointed out, though he had to admit it he'd been thinking the same thing himself "I had the thing in my hand remember? I analysed it with Alchemy and found it literally BRIMMING with Prana."

"Which means there's SOMETHING written in there he didn't want anyone to see." Draco noted, the Malfoy heir looking impressed despite himself "Pretty resourceful for a Muggle-born, wonder what he wrote down?"

"Could be anything." Ron pointed out dismissively, "It's a diary remember? Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid." He scowled at the U-bend "Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everyone a favour…"

"Would you shut it!" Draco hissed, slapping the redhead upside the head, though it seemed Myrtle was too absorbed in her death to care at the moment, the group filtering out of the toilet and back to the library, relieving Crabbe and Goyle from guard duty, the two having stayed behind to mind their bags, Hermione quickly pulling out her wand once they were all seated, tapping the diary with it three times.

"Aparecium!" she cast, staring at the blank pages as the spell for revealing letters written in invisible ink failed, the Gryffindor Girl reaching into her bag and pulling out what appeared to be a bright red eraser. "It's a revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley." She explained, rubbing the eraser HARD over the sodden pages of January first, to no visible effect.

* * *

><p><em>Later... <em>

In the end, the group had to leave the library, as Madam Pince was locking up for the evening, Herwald reclaiming the Diary from Hermione, citing that, since he found it, he should be the one to look into it, the Einzbern stating he wanted run a few tests of his own in private, unable to understand why he was so interested in the little black book which someone had tried to flush down the toilet.

The fact, he noted as he lay on his bed that evening, was that he KNEW that the book was hiding something. Even though it was empty, there was nonetheless something hidden amongst the pages that was driving him to keep absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish, a story about a boy, or girl he admitted, with the initials T. M. Riddle.

It was strange, but for some reason, those letters MEANT something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he'd had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But that was absurd; he'd never had friends outside the Einzbern Homunculi, save for AFTER the events of the 5th Heaven's Feel.

Nevertheless, Herwald was determined to find out more about Riddle, so much so that he looked him up in the school archives next day. Or tried to, as whoever Riddle was, he wasn't listed amongst the four houses in Herwald's year.

It took going back almost fifty years before he caught his first break, as it seemed that Riddle, otherwise known as Thomas Marvollo Riddle, a Slytherin Prefect and eventual Head Boy of Hogwarts prior to graduation, had won an award for special service to the school, though the details weren't listed.

"He sounds like Percy." Ron muttered, the redhead wrinkling his nose in disgust as Herwald listed off Riddles many achievements after breakfast "Prefect, Head Boy… probably top of every class…"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Hermione countered in a slightly hurt voice, earning a an awkward look from Ron, who scowled at Draco for snorting in amusement.

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again, a sense of hope rising within the castle in the passing of the new year without any more attacks, which only grew when Madam Pomfrey announced that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood, which meant it wouldn't be long until they were cut up and stewed to be included in Snape's antidote.

One of the few people who DIDN'T relax at the lack of attacks was Ernie Macmillan, the stout Hufflepuff still resolutely convinced that Herwald was the guilty one, going on for hours on end about how it was only a matter of time before he was caught in the act, only shutting up whenever Herwald was within earshot, during which time he went so still he may as well have been petrified.

To make matters worse, Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop, the fop actually going out of his way to say this to Professor McGonagall while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva." he bragged tapping his nose knowingly and winking roguishly at the Deputy-headmistress "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."

"I take it you found your wand then, Herr Lockhart?" Herwald asked in passing, startling the fop as he smiled at him, a fake, friendly smile that nonetheless gave the impression of fangs and venom.

"Err…no, no I haven't actually." Lockhart countered, looking a little thrown "Fortunately I ALWAYS keep a spare, though that hardly does Mr. Finch-Fletchley any good." He recovered his bravado admirably however "I'll just bet the scallywag was the one who pinched it in the first place! Probably snuck in to gauge the competition, saw he was outmatched, and decided to even the odds."

"Shouldn't he have gone after Professor Snape then first sir?" Herwald countered, smiling so innocently butter wouldn't melt in his mouth all the while, McGonagall snorting, clearly not buying it for a second, though Herwald caught a look of approval in her eyes "He really gave you what for."

"Yes…" Lockhart muttered, looking decidedly uncomfortable, sending the boy a covert glare, only to avert his eyes quickly at the icy emerald stare that awaited him "You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster." He opined, quickly changing the subject and as he looked at McGonagall "Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…"

Herwald didn't like the sound of that, and had a distinct feeling that in the days to come his desire to murder the hapless fop was about to get a lot worse.

* * *

><p><em>The next morning...<em>

Sure enough, at breakfast time on February fourteenth, as Herwald was escorting a drowsy Draco into the hall for breakfast, the Malfoy heir having not gotten much sleep because of a late-running Quidditch practice the night before, only to freeze at the sight that awaited them.

"Did we walk into the wrong hall?" Draco wondered, suddenly horrifyingly lucid as he stared at the large, lurid pink flowers lining the walls, and the heart-shaped confetti that was falling from the pale blue ceiling.

"I wish we HAD." Herwald muttered, the Einzbern glancing towards the Gryffindor table, where he espied Ron, who looked just as sickened as he was, Neville, who seemed a little thrown by what was going on, and Hermione, who seemed to have been overcome with giggles, an affliction she shared with most of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff girls, with the notable exception of Ginny Weasley, who was blushing like a tomato.

Sure enough, the mastermind behind this abomination turned out to be Lockhart, the fop, dressed in lurid pink robes to match the decorations, standing up at the Staff Table and waving for silence, the stony faced teachers on either side of him looking torn between amusement, confusion, wanting to curl up in a corner and die from embarrassment, or wanting to murder the little prick in a gory, painful, highly satisfying manner.

'McGonagall looks like she's going to have kittens…" Herwald noted, watching the tick in the Gryffindor Head's cheek muscle twitch away in mild amusement, though her displeasure was NOTHING compared to Snape's, the Potion's Master looked as though he'd been force-fed an entire cauldron of Skele-Gro 'Honestly, it's like the fop doesn't WANT to live…'

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted, unaware or uncaring of the silent enmity being levelled at his back by his colleagues "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all…" he smiled as if he HADN'T committed a felony worthy of execution "and it doesn't end here!"

"There's MORE?" Draco muttered, enawed with the horror of it all as Lockhart clapped his hands, the doors to the entrance hall opening to admit a dozen surly-looking dwarfs.

Now normally it is very hard to read a Dwarf's expression, as they were a NATURALLY surly-looking race whose lifetimes far outstripped mere mortals, and as such had plenty of time to work on their poker faces. Coupled with their gorse-bush beards, it was almost impossible to get a dwarf to express any emotion other than overall surliness, except possibly anger, as they had a fierce temper and were quick to go for the axes they always carried with them and attack the nearest offender en masse.

However, these dwarves were looking particularly surly, even for dwarfs, and they had a good reason to do so, as not only had Lockhart apparently forced them all into wearing golden wings, he'd forced them to carry harps, though Herwald was relived to note the fop hadn't been stupid enough to try and get them to leave their axes behind. Trying to separate a dwarf from his axe was almost as difficult on getting them to part with their gold, more than likely they'd have brought Hogwarts down around their ears for the offense.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart, miraculously able to ignore not only the enmity aimed at him from behind, but the barely concealed bloodlust emanating from his ineptly-named 'cupids', who were muttering foul things in dwarfish "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines!" he spread his arms wide "And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands, and Herwald was surprised to detect a string of rather foul Gobbledygook emerging from the diminutive Charms Master, though his mortification paled in the face of Snape's anger, the Potion's Master sending a warning glare to the assembled masses that promised he would force-feed poison to the first person to ask him for a Love Potion.

* * *

><p><em>Later... <em>

"And he calls himself an honorary member of the Dark Arts Defence League…" Herwald muttered, the Slytherins walking along the corridor towards their next class "Any member worth their salt would know Love Potions are ILLEGAL."

The employment of Love Potions on another person was considered a pretty serious offence in the Wizarding world, almost as bad as using the Imperious on someone. Even SUGGESTING their use was considered a felony in itself, though surprisingly actually BREWING the stuff was fine, provided, of course, the brewer could prove they had no intention to USE them.

"I know what you mean…" Draco muttered, the Malfoy heir looking decidedly put out, as it wasn't uncommon practice for Purebloods to be naturally wary around love potions "Just wait till Father gets wind of this, he'll have the lout out before you can say-!"

"Oy, you!" a voice interrupted, the Slytherins turning to see a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing and kicking at the shins of a line of Gryffindor First years that got in his way, his eyes locked on Herwald "You 'Arry Potter?"

_"I'm afraid you've made a mistake, Sir Dwarf."_ Herwald countered in dwarfish, earning a look of surprise from the dwarf, while Draco looked at him in confusion _"My name is Herwald von Einzbern."_ He waved a hand dismissively at the dwarf's look _"Yes, THOSE Einzbern's. Now is there something I can help you with?"_

_"You could start by telling me where to find 'Arry Bloody Potter, young Einzbern."_ The Dwarf muttered, his tone decidedly less angry, and more intrigued, his foul temper soothed somewhat by the novelty of conversing with a student in his own language _"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter, in person."_

Herwald grimaced, eyeing the Dwarf's harp as it twanged in a threatening sort of way, the Einzbern swore the damned instrument was LEERING at him.

_"Not that it's any of my business, young Einzbern," _the dwarf asked, looking exasperated and, dare he say it, embarrassed "_but you wouldn't happen to know what the hell is going on around here? Every time I ask people where Potter is, they either start mutterin' nonsense about some monster or flinch and avoid me."_

_"There's been a string of attacks recently."_ Herwald admitted sourly _"Unfortunately, due to groundless rumour, it seems Potter is the prime suspect, though nobody can prove anything."_

_"Students, PHAH!"_ the dwarf spat, looking disgusted at the first years, who scampered off looking nervously over their shoulders _"Worse than fishwives I swear…sod this, I need a drink…"_

_"I believe Hagrid, the groundskeeper, can assist you in that regard." _Herwald noted, sensing a way to put end to this little farce immediately "_I recently sent him a barrel of Einzbern's finest Mead." _He smiled as the dwarf's eyes lit up at the word 'mead'_ "If you're lucky he'll have made scones too…not quite as good as the ones you're used to I'll wager, but it's as close as you and your colleagues are likely to get to a good forged loaf."_

_"Yer a Saint, young Einzbern." _The dwarf offered, tipping his helmet respectfully before turning on his heel and racing off down the corridor, no doubt off to tell the others the good news, leaving Herwald alone with Draco.

"Was that dwarfish?" the Malfoy heir asked, quirking a brow at the Einzbern youth "Why didn't you tell me you'd mastered that language?"

"I haven't mastered it." Herwald countered hoarsely, grimacing as he felt the back of his throat, hoping he hadn't torn anything "I can get by with the common dialect, but it's physically impossible for a human without a lifetime supply of lozenges and a throat infection to master the language, though I get by."

"You're a man of many talents, Einzbern…" Draco muttered, shaking his head in bemusement, a little unnerved by his friend's words even as he led the way to transfiguration.

* * *

><p><em>That evening...<em>

Long after the rest of the dorms had gone to bed, Herwald sat on his four-poster and flicked through the blank pages, scowling at their continued defiance. 'This'd be so much easier if you were alive…' he muttered, glaring at the seemingly innocent blank pages in annoyance 'I'd have your secrets out of you in seconds…whoever the hell your owner was, he must've been a prodigy.

Unfortunately, outside his school records and award, there didn't seem to be any trace of Tom Riddle after he graduated, top of his year of course, and set off into the world. He briefly considered asking Rin to find out if Zelretch had ever heard of the man, but squashed such ideas, as even if he HAD met the ancient master of the Kaleidoscope magic, it was unlikely Zelretch would willingly reveal such information, not without some price Rin would be unwilling to pay.

Muttering darkly to himself, he tossed the diary onto his bedside counter, only to curse as it knocked over his inkwell, the Einzbern moving to clean up the mess, only to blink in surprise as the diary seemed to soak the spilt ink up like a sponge.

"Was zur Hölle?" he wondered, frowning as he picked up the book, flipping through the pages only to find they were as unmarked as ever despite being drenched only a few seconds ago. Quirking a brow, he pulled a new bottle out of his bedside cabinet, dipped his new eagle-feather quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary, where it shone brightly for a second, before vanishing as though it was being sucked into the page.

'Well…that's interesting…' he muttered, intrigued despite himself "Quite the ingenious little security method, I'll have to let Rin know once I figure out how he did it.'

He moved to put the book back on the bedside when he paused, 'I wonder…' he muttered, glancing at the book, intrigued despite himself, his hand moving almost of its own volition as he reloaded the quill, this time writing 'My name is Herwald von Einzbern' on the page, the words shining momentarily before they to sank without a trace. Just as he was about to close the book in defeat however, words he'd never written came oozing back onto the page, in his own handwriting and ink no less.

_"Hello, Herwald von Einzbern. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"_

* * *

><p>And the shit has officially hit the fan.<p> 


	12. Chapter 12: Forgotten Memories

Pluto's Ballz it's been forever since I posted anything, everything I had stored in my Doc Management folder is gone due to the time limit.

Ah well, most of the stuff was already posted anyways, If I need to come back to it, so be it.

In any case, I'm back, and Hopefully I'll be able to update more often, now that I don't have University breathing down my neck.

To celebrate, here's the next part of Herwald's adventure.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 12: Forgotten Memories.<span>

Herwald tensed, eyeing the words in alarm even as they faded away, but when nothing untoward happened, and he detected nothing wrong with his circuits after a cautionary exam, he cautiously informed the diary, or Tom rather, how he'd come across it in Myrtle's bathroom.

_"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink." _Riddle replied,Herwald deciding to refer to the book by its former master's surname, it was certainly less of a mouthful than calling it 'The Diary' all the time "_But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."_

"I take it you're referring to the Chamber of Secrets?" Herwald wrote, a sense of anticipation building inside of him as he awaited the reply with baited breath, as he knew from his research that Tom Riddle had earned his award for services to the school in his fifth year, dated fifty years ago, the same year, according to Lucius Malfoy, that the Chamber had last been opened.

It was a long shot, but Herwald was hoping the former Slytherin knew something about the Chamber, or at the very least knew the name of whoever had been opened it last time. _"You are correct, young Einzbern."_ Came Riddle's reply, _"Should I assume, therefore, that the Chamber has been opened again?"_

"You assume correct." Herwald replied, almost snarkily, writing quickly and flawlessly, checking to make sure he hadn't woken Draco or the others all the while "There have been three attacks, though so far no fatalities, the victims are only petrified."

_"That is unfortunate, though not surprising."_ Riddle noted in his reply _"I was in my Fifth year when the Chamber opened, and the monster attacked several students before finally killing one._ _Shortly after I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled, but the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."_

'He killed someone and they didn't think to lock him up?' Herwald muttered, aware of the irony even as he said it, though unlike the culprit, Herwald was justified in his crimes, as the only people he'd killed had been worthless wastes of air that had no merit worth saving. Hell if what Rider told him about Shinji was true, he doubted even Shirou, with his bleeding heart desire to save everyone he could, would've stopped him from splattering the little rapist's brains. He'd probably have helped out. "Can you tell me who opened the Chamber last time?" he asked, shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts even as he spoke "Maybe they can offer some clue as to who's behind it THIS time."

_"I can show you, if you like?"_ came Riddle's enigmatic reply, _"You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."_

Herwald hesitated, eyeing the words on the paper with understandable concern. After all, who knew what kind of spells Riddle had cast on his diary? The fact it seemed to possess a portion of his memories was unsettling enough, but precisely WHAT did it mean by allowing him to 'witness' a specific memory?

_"Let me show you."_ Riddle persisted, the words appearing on the page seeming to exert a strange pull on Herwald, despite the face the Ring of Kay protected him from any and all mental attacks. Shaking his head briefly, the Einzbern steeled his resolve and wrote his reply:

'OK.'

The second Herwald had written his confirmation, the pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he gripped his wand, though the when nothing happened after a few seconds, he simply waited, tensely, until the pages stopped halfway through the month of June, his brow quirking as he realized the little square for the 13th of June, a Friday it would seem no less, seemed to have turned into a miniscule television screen. Knowing better than to put the thing anywhere near his face, he instead reinforced his vision, peering down at the little window, only to jerk as it widened, the Einzbern letting out a curse as he felt himself tilt forwards, his body leaving the bed as he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page into a whirl of colour and shadow.

'Scheiße!' he swore, cursing himself for being so stupid, his wand held tightly in his grasp a she flipped agilely through the air, landing in a crouch once his feet hit the floor and rolling to the side, activating the Potter Ring on instinct, his emerald eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took in his surroundings.

He was in a circular room, the walls lined with slumbering portraits of various witches and wizards. Behind the desk in the centre sat a wizened, frail-looking wizard, bald except for a few wisps of white hair, who was reading a letter by candlelight, either unaware of Herwald's sudden arrival, or pointedly ignoring the boy, a fact the Einzbern was keen to take full advantage off until he figured out where the hell he was.

'I've seen a few of those portraits before…' he muttered, keeping behind the old man, his eyes taking in every angle of the room, noting the only way out seemed to be the window, which meant cutting across the old man's sight, and the door to the side, which would mean breaking cover and putting his back to the man 'They're former Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses, so at the very least I'm still in Hogwarts…'

The elderly wizard folded up the letter he'd been reading up until now with a sigh and stood up, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he watched the old man walk past him, crossing the room to the window, drawing the curtains, Herwald noting that the sun was setting outside before the old man returned to his seat behind the desk, twiddling his thumbs while watching the door.

'It was midnight when I opened Riddle's Diary.' The Einzbern recalled, confident in his timekeeping abilities as he glanced at the pocket watch he'd received from the Flamels, only to frown as he noticed it seemed to have frozen just after midnight, even though he was certain he'd wound it up 'Which means either I've gone back in time…or this is Riddle's Memory…'

It made sense, Riddle had been a student at Hogwarts, a Prefect and Head Boy no less, so it stood to reason he had been in the Headmaster's office, which was the only place Herwald could think of where the portraits of the previous masters would be assembled.

This meant that the man behind the desk was the Headmaster of the time, Professor Dippet, whom according to Riddle had silenced the boy from revealing the true identity of the culprit behind the previous opening of the Chamber, and had set them free with little worse than an expulsion.

It also meant that Herwald's use of the Potter Ring had been unnecessary, for as a guest in the memory, he was little more than a Phantom, unable to see or do anything but watch as the events of fifty years ago transpired.

'Or at least that's how it SHOULD be.' He muttered, eyeing Professor Dippet with a look of understandable suspicion. A person's memories were bound to THEM and THEM alone, which meant if the owner of said memories wasn't present in a scene, then they should have no knowledge of it. Why then, was Herwald able to see the inside of the former Headmaster's office when Riddle wasn't present?

There was a knock on the office door, Professor Dippet bidding the guest 'Enter' in a feeble sounding voice that was heart wrenching to listen to, Herwald's attention focusing on the door as it opened to admit a tall, dark haired boy, about sixteen if Herwald was any judge, who removed his pointed hat out of deference to the headmaster. Herwald spotted a silver prefect's badge glinting on the boy's chest, and came to immediate conclusion that this was none other than Riddle himself, a conclusion that Dippet confirmed by addressing the boy.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" Riddle asked, looking nervous, though Herwald could tell it was feigned, probably for the old man's benefit. It would seem his senior Serpent knew the Slytherin codebook inside and out.

"Sit down." Dippet insisted, waiting for the boy to comply as he held up the letter he'd been reading when Herwald had arrived "I've just been reading the letter you sent me." He noted, looking towards Riddle, who seemed to grow rather tense at the revelation, gripping his hands together so tightly the knuckles were paling "My dear boy," said Dipper kindly "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

"No." Riddle countered immediately, almost, but not actually, cutting the old man off, Herwald quirking a brow as he caught the slight undertone of anger in the boy's tone "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that…to that…"

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" said Dippet curiously, a hint of not-quite pity in his tone, as if the idea of associating with mundanes was some mark of stigma, continuing only after Riddle, flushing slightly, confirmed it "You are Muggle-born?"

"Half-blood, sir." Riddle corrected, and Herwald noted a hint of anger in the boy's tone at the thought of being mistaken for a Muggleborn "Muggle father, witch mother." He elaborated "My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me: Tom, after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."

* * *

><p><em>Herwalds POV...<em>

Herald frowned, already not liking what he was seeing of his predecessor. It would seem that Tom Marvolo Riddle possessed the same inherent prejudice most Pureblood wizards had towards Mundanes, and those that came from less than 'pure' backgrounds. Never mind the fact that the term 'Muggleborn' itself was erroneous, as more often than not the magi in question were descended from a pureblood squib who'd married into a Mundane family out of necessity, as back then it was quite common for Magus families to either disown their magically incapable offspring, or have them discretely 'done away with.'

'A pity that the Makiri didn't think to stick to that particular custom.' He muttered, recalling Matou Shinji, Shirou's childhood friend and Sakura's adoptive elder brother. The slimy little weasel was the head of the family, being the only son of the elder son, but was little better off than a squib as he lacked a single magical circuit in his entire body. This, naturally, had led to a tremendous inferiority complex that demanded he lash out at anyone that he perceived as looking down on him, badgering them until they either avoided him or succumbed to his will.

And that wasn't the WORST the little bastard had done, as from what little he'd managed to get out of Rider, and Shirou's own suspicions after seeing Sakura's injuries revealed that Shinji had been particularly abusive towards the plum haired girl, and had apparently raped her on more than one occasion, on his grandfather's orders no less.

Orders from Jubstacheit or not, Herwald was regretting killing the little prick as quickly as he had during the Grail war. He should've drawn it out like he had with Quirrell, a sentiment that was shared by Rider, Illyasviel and Rin, though surprisingly, Sakura continued to defend her brother, citing it was on Zouken's orders that he had done what he did, and that he'd only ever hurt her occasionally, when his temper had been at its worst and she'd unintentionally provoked him. Rider had said nothing on the matter, but Herwald could tell from the Gorgon's expression that Sakura was simply sugar-coating things in order to help everyone move on with their lives.

He had to marvel at the younger Tohsaka sibling's strength, though considering she was RIN'S little sister he really shouldn't have. Magi of the Tohsaka family were stubborn, possessed of an inner strength that could move mountains. Whatever the Makiri had done to the girl had only made her desire to live stronger.

He shook himself out of such thoughts, as admiration for the girl aside, it didn't help him with the current situation before him, namely that, hypocritical Pureblood bigotry aside, there were a lot of similarities between him and Tom Riddle.

Both of them were orphans, though it would appear Riddle had yet to find a new home, whereas Herwald had been adopted by the Einzberns before moving in with Shirou. Both were half-bloods, though Herwald was technically a 'three-quarters blood', seeing as Lily Potter had been a 'Muggleborn', and thus descended of a Pureblood Squib. They were both Slytherins, evident enough by their robes, and both were currently dealing with a madman and his trained attack monster running around the school.

But that was where the problems started. Why would Riddle, a Slytherin with a clear dislike of Muggleborns, want to stop the so-called 'heir of Slytherin' that was going around attacking them?

He hadn't missed the look of anger and self-revulsion in the older boy's eyes when he'd described his parentage, apparently Riddle's ancestry was a touchy subject, which meant he was at least descended from a line of Purebloods that had either fallen into hard times, or had disowned him because of his Muggle sire, neither of which was conducive towards developing positive feelings towards Muggleborns, which at around this time would have been on the rise.

Professor Dippet, however, seemed to lack Herwald's insight into the boy's character, as he merely clucked his tongue sympathetically and sighed "The thing is, Tom." He began, using the boy's first name, possibly as a term of endearment, missing the flash of anger in Riddle's eyes at being addressed as such "Special arrangements MIGHT have been made for you, but in the current circumstances…"

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" Riddle enquired, Herwald's back stiffening slightly, even as he stepped forwards, watching the older boy's eyes like a hawk. Had he imagined it, or had he spotted something there for a second?

"Precisely." The memory of the old headmaster confirmed, nodding for emphasis "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy… the death of that poor little girl…"

Herwald glanced at Dippet at those words, though he never took his eyes off Riddle's face. While the former headmaster seemed to grow frailer at the mention of the death, Riddle seemed impassive, as if it didn't bother him. Was he simply reigning in his emotions? Or was it something else?

"You will be safer by far at your orphanage." Dippet concluded, shaking his head after a moment of reflective silence "As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school." He sighed, looking helpless "We are no nearer locating the…source…of all this unpleasantness…"

"Sir…" Riddle spoke up, Herwald's eyes narrowing even as the elder boy's widened, the Einzbern watching as the gears turned behind that handsome façade "If the person was caught…if it all stopped…"

"What do you mean?" Dippet asked with a squeak in his voice, the Headmaster sitting up in his chair with a look of excited amazement on his face, as if glancing the light at the end of a tunnel "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir." said Riddle quickly, FAR too quickly for Herwald, who'd been trained to read a person's body language to discern whether or not they were lying or not as part of his training for the Grail War. The Elder Slytherin DID know something, but whether it was simply suspicion, or something deeper, was uncertain.

Dippet, however, one again lacked the Einzbern's ability, and so simply sank back into his chair, looking faintly disappointed "You may go, Tom…" he allowed, Riddle offering a polite farewell as he slid off his chair and slouched out of the room, Herwald following the boy like the phantom he was.

* * *

><p><em>As Riddle prepares to leave... <em>

Making sure to memorize the precise location of the Headmaster's office in case he needed to speak with Dumbledore, as unlikely as it seemed, in the near future, the Einzbern followed the memory of Riddle through the darkening halls of Hogwarts from Fifty years prior, stopping whenever the older teen stopped, ducking out of sight just in case the memory suddenly turned to address him, reinforcing his eyes to examine the boy's features.

From what he could tell, Riddle seemed to be deep in thought, his handsome features taught, his brows furrowing as he bit his lip, whatever thoughts that were racing through his head clearly giving him a hard time. Then, as though he had suddenly reached a decision, the memory of Riddle hurried off, Herwald gliding invisibly and noiselessly behind him, his wand at the ready, for all the good it was likely to do, only to pull up short outside the entrance hall, where a tall wizard with a long bead and sweeping auburn hair called to Riddle from the marble staircase.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?" He didn't QUITE demand, Herwald's eyes widening at the familiar, if younger, voice, turning to gape in shock at what had to be Dumbledore, aged Fifty years younger, and still clearly a member of Hogwarts' staff.

"I had to see the headmaster, sir," Riddle explained, and Herwald noted that not only was the elder Slytherin avoiding Dumbledore's eyes, which meant he knew the old Twinkler's was a Legilimens, but he seemed almost NERVOUS around the man.

"Well, hurry off to bed." Dumbledore ordered, and Herwald coudn't help but quirk a brow, for while the tone was genial, the future-headmaster's blue eyes weren't twinkling even slightly, instead he seemed to be giving Riddle the same penetrating stare he'd used on Herwald earlier that year, only Herwald couldn't detect a single trace of concern there, only suspicion "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…"

He trailed off, suddenly seeming older, sighing heavily before bidding Riddle good night and striding off down the hall. Riddle watched him walk out of sight, and Herwald swore he saw the Slytherin exhale briefly, before following him as he moved to quickly move down the stone steps to the dungeons, the Einzbern unable to help quirking a brow as he recognised the dungeon the elder boy entered as the very one Snape used for his lessons, though it seemed to not be in use by this point, evidenced from the dust on the floors and walls.

Moving quickly yet silently, Riddle pushed the door to the dungeon almost closed, cutting off all light to the point Herwald could only make him out by reinforcing his eyes, the Einzbern watching the elder Slytherin as he stood stock-still by the door, watching the passage outside. They stood like that for what felt like an hour, the boy and the memory, only Herwald's training keeping him from going out of his mind with boredom, only to tense as he heard something move beyond the door.

Someone was creeping along the passage, he could tell by the steady footfalls that whoever it was had to at least possess two legs, which meant it was either a member of staff or a student out of bounds after curfew. The former seemed more likely, as whoever was coming down the corridor was BIG, the footfalls were far too heavy to belong to any student, even Crabbe and Goyle didn't have that heavy a tread, though at the same time it was too small to be anything NEAR as big as a troll, for one thing the dust in the dungeon hadn't been disturbed.

Whoever, WHATEVER was out there passed by the Dungeon Riddle and Herwald were lurking in without stopping, Riddle waiting with admirable skill, for someone without the proper training that is, until the footsteps had receded, before slipping out the door, quiet as a shadow, and making his way down the hall Herwald following in his wake, his training instinctively making him stalk the elder boy despite the fact he was not only invisible, but even f he hadn't been, Riddle wouldn't have been able to see him anyways.

'I wonder if this was what it was like for Assassin whenever she had to assume astral form?' Herwald wondered, a flash of pain washing over him at the memory of his faithful Servant, who'd sacrificed herself to enable them to escape from Gilgamesh at the Einzbern Castle. It was times like this he missed having the Servant around, for as unnerving as she could be, her skills at gathering information had been top-notch, as was expected of an incarnation of Hassan-il-Sabbah, the legendary leader of the order of Assassins.

He shook himself to clear his head, as such thoughts would only get in the way now, the Einzbern following the memory of Riddle through the dungeon corridors for what felt like five minutes, only to pull up short as Riddle came to a halt, Herwald's reinforced ears twitching as Riddle inclined his head towards the sound of a creaking door, and a familiar voice speaking in a hoarse whisper.

"C'mon… gotta get yeh outta here…" the voice whispered, laced with urgency, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he tried to place why it sounded so hauntingly familiar, even as something chittered in the darkness "C'mon now… in the box…"

"Evening, Rubeus." Riddle greeted sharply, jumping around the corner, Herwald's eyes widening as he followed the boy just in time to see the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a large box, more of a crate really, lying next to it.

The boy jumped at the sound of Riddle's voice and slammed the door shut, leaping to his feet and turning to face the Slytherin, giving Herwald a better look at his face, which even without the gorse brush beard, Herwald could immediately recognize as a younger Rubeus Hagrid. "What yer doin' down here, Tom?" the teenage half-giant asked, the future Groundskeeper and Keeper of the Keys looking at Riddle warily as the Prefect stepped closer.

"It's all over." Riddle replied, his wand out and pointed at the larger boy, his expression calm, collected, and cold as a viper's kiss "I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop." He waved his free hand dismissively at Hagrid's look of confusion "I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and…"

"He never killed no-one!" Hagrid countered, the teenage half-giant backing up against the closed door, his arms outstretched as if to bar Riddle entry, Herwald's brows furrowing as he caught strains of a funny rustling and clicking going on behind it.

"Come on, Rubeus." Riddle urged, the Slytherin moving even closer to the distraught half-giant, his voice like silk and syrup "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered."

"It wasn't him!" Hagrid roared, his voice echoing in the dark passage as he defended whatever was behind the door with a look of anger that Herwald rarely saw nowadays from the gentle giant "He wouldn'! He never!"

"Stand aside." Riddle ordered, all pretences of attempting to reason with the half giant gone as he aimed his wand, Herwald reaching out to grab his arm, only to curse as it went right through, the spell that emerged lighting the corridor with a sudden flaming light, the door behind Hagrid flying open with such force it knocked the half-giant teen into the opposite wall, Herwald's eyes widening as he gaped at the horror inside.

It was a Spider, but not just ANY spider, for no normal spider was the size of a medium-sized dog, it's vast, low-slung, hairy body a tangle of black legs and gleaming multiple eyes, the pair of razor-sharp pincers that formed its mouth gleaming in the torchlight.

A part of Herwald was glad that Ron wasn't here, more than likely the boy would've suffered a heart attack the moment the door was opened, hell HE wasn't likely to look at Spiders the same way again after seeing this monstrosity. Such thoughts were soon banished as Riddle raised his wand again, too late it would seem, for the arachnid horror had lunged forwards, bowling over the Slytherin prefect before scuttling into the darkness in bid for freedom.

Riddle, enraged if his expression was any indication, was NOT willing to accommodate the creature's bid for freedom, and so scrambled to his feet, raising his wand once again, only for Hagrid, who'd by now recovered his wits, to leap at the Slytherin, grabbing his wand and tossing the smaller boy to the ground with a howl of "NOOOOOO!" which echoed around Herwald's skull just as Riddle's cracked against the stone floor, the scene whirling around the Einzbern, the darkness becoming complete, Herwald realizing immediately that Riddle must have lost consciousness even as he felt himself falling, the Einzbern slapping down with his hands as he landed on his four poster bed in the Slytherin dormitory, Riddle's diary lying at his side, as innocent as you like.

"Herwald?" Draco called out, the Einzbern looking up to see his roommate blinking at him sleepily from his own four poster "What's up?"

"Bad dream…" Herwald assured the Malfoy heir, though his emerald eyes never left Riddle's diary as he spoke, his mind reeling with what he'd just seen.

* * *

><p>A little short, but a good means of continuing the plot after so long<p>

Expect more to come.


	13. Chapter 13: Cornelius Fudge

Wow...how long has it been?

Heavy: I! Feel! ALIVE!

Engineer: Hoowheee...thank heaven for the Re-Spawn.

Spy: Indeed, for a moment zere, i was afraid we were in trouble.

Kyugan: Oh give it a rest you've survived worse. In any case, let's see what happens next.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 13: Cornelius Fudge.<span>

Herwald didn't mention anything about what he'd discovered about the diary to Hermione and the others, knowing just how they'd react.

After all, it was no big surprise to any of them that Hagrid had an unfortunate appreciation for creatures that any sane person wouldn't approach without a weapon of some kind about their person, possibly not even then. Last year alone the Einzbern had witnessed the groundskeeper try to raise an infant dragon in his little wooden house, and even prior to that had the distinct 'pleasure' of running into a Cerberus that the groundskeeper had lent to Dumbledore in order to help guard the entrance to the chambers where the False Stone had been hidden.

Needless to say, the fact the half-giant had named the canine 'Fluffy' hadn't endeared it to Herwald any more than his naming the infant Norwegian Ridgeback 'Norbert' had.

Therefore, it really didn't surprise the boy-who-lived that, as a boy, the earnest, well-meaning, if clumsy groundskeeper had learned of a legendary monster hidden somewhere in the castle, and had gone to great lengths to catch so much of a glimpse of it.

'Knowing Hagrid, he probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long.' Herwald muttered, wincing as he could just see the teenage half-giant opening whatever doors the monster had been sealed behind in order to give it a chance to stretch its many legs 'Hell I can almost imagine him trying to put a leash and collar on it.'

However, despite his knowledge of Hagrid's apparent blind spot when it came to dangerous creatures and baking, he also felt he had a decent understanding of the Half-giant's character, and so he KNEW that, even if he HAD been sneaking the monster around the halls, Hagrid would have never permitted the beast to attack anyone, even in self-defense.

Not only that, there was the fact the 'Monster' Riddle had uncovered couldn't possibly be the one that was attacking the students NOW, or THEN for that matter.

It hadn't taken him all that long to look up 'magical spiders' in the library, hell he needn't have bothered, as there was only one notable species that Newton Scamander had listed in his 'Fantastic Beasts and here to Find Them': Acromantula, a species of giant spider, native to the rainforests of Southeast Asia, particularly Borneo.

There was some speculation regarding the creatures, as they were apparently the result of one particularly canny Magi's desire to create a new breed of creature, designed specifically to guard the dwellings or treasure hoards they'd accumulated in their search for Akasha, no doubt some time before the 1965 Ban on Experimental Breeding had come into effect, as the first sighting of one, or rather, the first KNOWN sighting of one, had been in 1794.

Now this alone didn't immediately exonerate the beast as the monster behind the attacks, as Acromantulas were not only highly intelligent, capable of human speech, but also possessed a taste for human flesh, which probably accounted for how they'd managed to spread so far, more than likely the original brood had killed their creator and spread out in search of new territories of their own, as spiders a wont to do.

No, what exonerated the beast was the fact that Acromantulas ate their prey LIVE, taking them down with their venom, which was so potent it could still kill for a short time after the beast's death. Since none of the victims showed any signs of being poisoned, or any outstanding injuries at ALL for that matter, that meant that Acromantulas weren't behind the attacks now or fifty years ago.

'Well...maybe not ALL of them…' he muttered, frowning in thought, for while the other victims fifty years prior had apparently recovered, there had been ONE fatality. The spider could very well be responsible for HER death, in which case Hagrid really had no-one but himself to blame for letting it roam around. It would certainly explain the break in the cycle, after all, why would the REAL killer suddenly switch his M.O from petrifying students to outright murder?

However, even if Hagrid WAS guilty of the sole fatality fifty years prior, Herwald HIGHLY doubted the half-giant would have had anything to do with the other attacks. It just didn't fit the half-giant's personality, even if he wasn't a Gryffindor Hagrid was a steadfast denouncer of the entire pureblood agenda, a friend to Muggle-born and half-blood alike. He'd sooner eat his own beard than ever use the word 'Mudblood', so the idea of him attacking Muggleborns simply for being so was ludicrous in and of itself.

However, one thing was absolutely certain: While Hagrid was innocent of opening the Chamber, he was nonetheless one of the few people who'd been enrolled at Hogwarts when it HAD been opened, which meant that he must have some idea as to what REALLY happened. After all, Herwald HIGHLY doubted the Half-giant would still be walking around free unless someone had delivered proof that he HADN'T, in fact, opened the chamber.

'The only problem is how am I supposed to ask him without worrying the others?' Herwald muttered, his brows furrowing in thought as he eyed the Groundskeeper whilst pretending to put away a light breakfast 'I can't exactly ask him when we're visiting…and Hagrid's surprisingly good at keeping his mouth shut when the time comes, I doubt he'd want to talk about something as painful as this.'

In the end he decided that the best thing to do would be to put off speaking with Hagrid on the matter unless there was another attack, instead focusing his attention on homework, research into Parseltongue, and trying to locate the damnable Knight spirit that he KNEW was lurking somewhere on Hogwarts grounds, even if the other Ghosts insisted they knew nothing on the matter.

Four months had passed since Justin and Sir Nicholas had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good, much to the distress of Peeves, who'd been ordered to stop harassing them.

Ernie Macmillan seemed as cautious around Herwald as ever, but managed to keep a civil tongue in his head, apparently having taken Herwald's threat of a clan war to heart. Not that Herwald had meant it of course, he doubted the Einzberns would care if he came to any harm unless it brought shame to their name. If that happened, Herwald had no doubt they'd tear Hogwarts to the ground in retribution, but not one of it would be for his benefit.

One bit of good news was that the Mandrakes had thrown a party that March, which according to Professor Sprout meant they were almost fully mature, which meant it wouldn't be long before they could brew up the potion needed to help the victims of the attack…though how they intended to administer it to Sir Nicholas was beyond Herwald, though thankfully he didn't have time to fret about such things, as the time had come for the Second Years to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least, took very seriously.

* * *

><p><em>Library... <em>

"It could affect our whole future." the Gryffindor Girl informed the group, who'd once again convened in the library for a study session, pouring over the lists of new subjects and marking the ones that appealed to them with checks.

"Too bad we can't give up any of our old ones…" Ron muttered gloomily "Believe you me I'd JUMP at the chance to give up Potions…" he ignored the look Draco sent him "That and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"But that's very important!" Hermione exclaimed, looking so scandalized by the very idea Ron might have well have committed a class a felony right in front of her.

"Not the way Lockhart teaches it." Ron countered darkly, earning a nod from his fellow males even as Hermione frowned "The only thing I've learned from that bloody twat is to never set pixies loose in a classroom."

"That and the amount of times he's won Witch Weekly's best smile award." Draco muttered with a look of disgust, though whether it was at Lockhart or because he was agreeing with Ron was uncertain "I mean honestly, even if the man HAD a brain I doubt he'd be any danger to anyone but himself."

Hermione sniffed, pointing her nose in the air before turning her attention to Neville, who'd been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family giving him different advice on what subjects to choose. In the end, he signed up for Ancient Runes along with Herwald and Hermione for the simple fact he'd have a familiar face to help him out, and the fact that Herwald had implied Runes were some of the oldest forms of magic, and that they played an important role in Alchemy.

Herwald had also selected Care of Magical Creatures, more out of lack of variety than anything else, as the only other courses, Arithmancy and Divination, where highly illogical to him, as they both, in some shape or form, involved predicting the future, a skill which, quite frankly, could NOT be taught. You either possessed the inherent ability to see the future, a rarity even in the oldest of Magical Bloodlines, or you didn't, that was simply the way things were.

Most of the others had elected to take Care of Magical Creatures as well, Ron even going so far to note that, with their luck, they'd probably end up facing off against the subject material at some point before graduation, before signing himself down for Muggle Studies, citing that he could use his dad as a reference to get by on the exams.

Draco, naturally, scoffed at the idea, but held back from commenting further in favour of selecting Ancient Runes as his second choice, as did Crabbe and Goyle, more out of a desire to stick with their friends than any particular interest in the subject. However Hermione certainly took the cake when she ignored everyone's advice and instead signed up for everything.

"Honestly Granger, even for YOU that's a bit much." Draco muttered, looking at the girl in exasperation as she hummed to herself "I mean, why even bother signing up for Muggle Studies? You're Muggleborn!"

"But it'll be interesting to see it from the Wizarding world's perspective." Hermione insisted, refusing to listen to anyone else's opinion of the matter, and in the end the subject was dropped in favour of everyone but Herwald's favourite topic: Quidditch.

The next match of the season was Gryffindor against Hufflepuff, and according to the Weasley Twins, who served as beaters, the Captain Oliver Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, which meant Herwald only ran into the pair occasionally, though he could understand Wood's drive, for the improved weather meant better training sessions. Unfortunately for Wood, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint understood this all too well, and had scheduled training matches so much that Draco literally had no time for anything other than homework and training most evenings, the Malfoy Heir looking decidedly spent every time he staggered back into the common room.

Thankfully, with the match drawing ever closer, nobody seemed to be paying Herwald any more attention than usual, which was a tremendous help when it came to trying to figure out just what kind of beastie Slytherin had running around the place.

"I'll bet anything's its some kind of snake." Ron muttered, tapping the table before him for emphasis "I mean it makes sense right? Slytherin was a Parseltongue, it's the very reason the symbol of your house is a snake!"

"I have to agree with Weasley on this one." Draco muttered, wincing as he said it "I can't really see Slytherin commanding anything other than a Serpent of some sort, it would also explain the voices you've been hearing in the walls from time to time."

Herwald scowled, as he hadn't, in actuality, heard any of the voices for some time now, not since the last attack to be more precise. For some time afterwards he'd taken to stalking the halls, invisible and with his hearing reinforced, trying to locate the source, but so far the only thing he'd discovered was that Ron's brother Percy and Ravenclaw Prefect Penelope Clearwater were apparently an item, as he'd walked in on them snogging in a broom closet not too long ago. Both had initially threatened to take points off him if he told anyone, though they quickly changed their tune when he congratulated them and advised them to take care in the halls, shooting down Percy's confidence in his self-believed immunity to attack his position as Prefect afforded him by pointing out that the monster didn't care WHAT it attacked, Mrs. Norris and Sir Nicholas being prime examples.

After all, what could a simple badge do against something that could even hurt GHOSTS?

* * *

><p><em>Take me out to the park-! <em>

The match against Hufflepuff ended with a resounding victory for Gryffindor, much to the pleasure of Wood, who according to the Weasley Twins could be heard singing off-key in the showers after the match, a fact he neither denied or admitted to, instead turning his attention towards plotting his strategy for the next match, not wanting to use the same strategy in case Flint tried to pull a fast one.

Herwald could've cared less about that, though it DID provide them all a perfect opportunity to visit Hagrid at his hut, the Half-giant initially eyeing Draco, Crabbe and Goyle with suspicion, a sentiment the trio shared, only Herwald's presence keeping the tense atmosphere from growing worse, that is until Fang promptly decided that Draco needed a wash, and promptly began licking his face, much to the amusement of the others.

"Honestly…" Draco muttered, the red-faced Malfoy glaring at Fang as he wiped the slobber off his face with a handkerchief he intended to BURN later, Herwald chuckling as he scratched the massive Boar hound's tummy "Can't you control that…brute?"

"Ah Fang'd never hurt yeh." Hagrid chuckled, the groundskeeper taking no offence to the tone, as the sight of Malfoy flailing under Fang's ministrations had put him in a good mood "He mightn' look it, but he's a ruddy coward."

"Really?" Draco muttered, quirking a brow as he glanced at the massive canine, which was almost as big as Goyle, only with fangs, claws, and a slightly better odor in the heat "I really can't see it."

"Must be your animal magnetism, Draco." Herwald quipped, the others sniggering at the look of embarrassed outrage on the Malfoy's face "Told you the wild-man look was in."

"I also remember you saying it attracted FEMALES Einzbern." Draco quipped, pushing Fang back tentatively when the hound bounded up to him again, scratching him behind the ears "Huh…surprisingly docile brute aren't you?"

Things picked up from there, as Hagrid really couldn't stay suspicious of anyone that Fang liked, the Half-giant breaking out the tea and freshly baked scones, Herald, Draco, Ron, Neville and Hermione soaking them thoroughly in their tea before taking a bite.

Surprisingly, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to hit off rather well with the Groundskeeper, putting away scone after rock-hard scone faster than any human had right to. Hagrid, overjoyed to find people that appreciated his culinary talents, even if they WERE Slytherins and the sons of suspected Death Eaters, kept them well stocked throughout the evening, regaling them with stories of their fathers' days as students, secrets which the Elder Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle would've paid a fortune to silence.

Needless to say, it was highly unlikely that Draco would be able to look his father in the eye without imagining a teenaged Lucius racing out of a bush, his robes in disarray after being caught in an 'intimate' moment with his future mother, Narcissa, by the Groundskeeper.

"Aye, those two were close even before the Black's made the offer ter marry Narcissa off." Hagrid noted, nodding his head in understanding "Mind you, she was a fair bit younger than ol' Lucius, he was a year older than James and Frank and she was a year younger."

"Most Pureblood marriages are arranged before birth." Draco noted, seeing the slightly disapproving expression on Hermione's face "My parents were engaged before either knew of their existence, though they didn't learn of the engagement until AFTER they'd met."

"Out-dated custom if yeh ask me." Hagrid muttered, shaking his head dismissively "Oh don't get me wrong, it works for them that use it, but most of the time they get on like a house on fire. Ever been in a burning house?"

"WE almost had the pleasure last year." Herwald quipped, smiling coyly up at the Groundskeeper as he spoke "Heard from Norbert recently?"

Hagrid blushed and averted his eyes, the Gryffindors chuckling to themselves while Draco blinked in confusion, Crabbe and Goyle too busy munching away at Hagrid's scones to care for conversation. The evening wore on, and it was only after Hermione noticed the sun was beginning to set that they made their excuses to leave, splitting up at the stairs before heading onto their respective dormitories, though Crabbe and Goyle kept munching away at the scones they'd brought with them.

* * *

><p><em>Later... <em>

It wasn't until Herwald was certain that Draco and the rest were asleep that the Einzbern made his move, activating the Potter Ring and slipping out of the common room, down the corridors, up the stairs and out into the main corridor like a phantom.

Unsurprisingly, Snape was guarding the door to the castle, and had Herwald not been prepared for this, it could have ended badly. Fortunately, all it took was a well tossed pebble to distract the Potions Master long enough for him to slip out of the castle, racing across the grounds towards Hagrid's hut, knocking on the door and deactivating the Potter Ring just as the startled Half-Giant answered it. "Harry?" he exclaimed, looking at the boy-who-lived in alarm, "What're yeh doin' out here this late? Don't yeh know there's a curfew?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something without the others around." Herwald replied, looking into the Half-giant's eyes calmly "Tell me, does the name Tom Marvollo Riddle ring any bells?"

It clearly did, and they weren't the kind of bells Hagrid liked either, judging by the flash of anger and fear that flitted across what few parts of his face that weren't concealed behind his dense, gorse-bush beard. "Where'd yeh hear that name?" the Half-giant choked, looking torn between fear, anger, concern, and unless Herwald was mistaken, betrayal.

"I found his diary." Herwald replied, pulling the aforementioned tome out of his robe and holding it up so that Hagrid could see the initials "He put his memories into it, rather like a Pensieve really, was quite eager to show me how he earned his award for 'special service to the school'."

Hagrid flinched, his features lined with betrayal even as his eyes flashed, no doubt reliving the night he was expelled from Hogwarts.

"An interesting tale, were it not a complete load of tripe." Herwald continued, tossing the diary onto Hagrid's table even as the half-giant blinked in shock "He clearly wanted to avoid being sent back to the Muggle orphanage he lived in, and saw YOU as the perfect scapegoat."

"Yeh…don't believe I did it?" Hagrid stammered, looking torn between shock, wonderment, and hope, his eyes twinkling with desperation.

"Hagrid, while I'll be the first to admit your taste in…pets, leaves much to be desired, you would never let something that would attack students run around free, nor would you set it on people." Herwald opined, looking the man calmly "Not only that, but while Acromantulas are a rare and ILLEGAL species, the fact the girl in question as killed without a mark on her exonerates your…eight-legged friend, as the killer."

"That's what 'I' said!" Hagrid insisted, thumping his hand on the table "I told 'em Aragogg couldn't a' been the one ter harm poor Myrtle, I fed him myself and he never left the room I kept him in, but Professor Dippet wouldn't listen…"

"I doubt he would have even if you WEREN'T being accused of bringing a highly dangerous, ILLEGAL creature into the school." Herwald noted "The man was DESPERATE Hagrid, a student had been KILLED, on HIS watch. He had to do SOMETHING to protect his status, and Riddle, smarmy bastard that he was, found it for him."

"That was what hurt the most…" Hagrid muttered, looking down at his dustbin-lid sized hands sadly "Never had any trouble from Tom, fer a Slytherin he was a perfect gentleman, always willing to help out with directions, never picking on the other houses…I'm not ashamed to admit, when I saw him standing with his wand aimed at me I thought I was seein' things…"

'Riddle was GOOD.' Herwald muttered, his eyes narrowing as he took in Hagrid's posture and look of betrayal 'Even had the other houses fooled…bet you anything even FILCH liked him.'

Before he could say anything further however, a knock came from the door, the Einzbern sharing a look with Hagrid before activating the Potter Ring, scuttling into a corner while Hagrid made a show of calming a barking fang to cover his retreat, before making his way over to the entrance, and flinging it open to reveal Albus Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Hagrid." The Headmaster greeted, his tone cordial, though he appeared deadly serious for once, his eyes missing their trademark twinkle as he stepped into the hut, followed by a rather odd looking man with rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, wearing, with the typical British Wizarding lack of co-ordination, a pinstriped suit and scarlet tie under a long black cloak. On his feet he wore pointed purple boots, and under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler.

'Cornelius Fudge?' Herwald wondered, quirking a brow at the sight of the man that was widely regarded as the WORST Minister of Magic in history 'Was zur Hölle is HE doing here?'

"Bad business, Hagrid." Fudge muttered, unaware of Herwald's mocking scrutiny as he fidgeted with his bowler "Very bad business. Had to come. Things have gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I never!" Hagrid exclaimed, his eyes going wide with shock and terror, turning to look imploringly at Dumbledore, who was standing off to the side, like an angry stature "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir-!"

"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence." Dumbledore stressed, the Supreme Mugwump frowning disapprovingly at Fudge, who like his namesake, wilted under the heat of the old man's stare.

"Look, Albus," he began, trying, and failing to appeal to the Headmaster, instead coming off as a whining child "Hagrid's record's against him, the Ministry's got to do something." He shook his head "The school governors have been in touch…"

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest." Dumbledore persisted, his blue eyes laced with such anger that Herwald couldn't help shivering. It was clear now why Grandfather Jubstacheit respected this man as much as he detested the ground he walked on, when incensed, their eyes were practically identical.

"Look at it from my point of view." Fudge, pleaded, averting his eyes as he fidgeted with his bowler nervously "I'm under a lot of pressure….Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him." He risked looking up bravely "Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty…"

"Take me?" Hagrid repeated, and Herwald was stunned to see the Half-Giant was actually trembling with fear, like a new-born foal faced with the prospect of fighting off a pack of wolves "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only." Fudge assured the half-giant, though he couldn't seem to bring himself to look him in the eyes "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology…"

"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid, and Herwald felt his fist tighten at the word, wanting nothing more than to drop his invisibility and defend his friend, consequences be damned. After all, even if it meant a lifetime of detention, it was still better than having one of the few people he considered friends spending so much as a second on that rock.

He was just about to make his move when another loud rap on the door stilled him, Dumbledore moving to answer it, as Hagrid was in no state to do so, though his terror was soon replaced by anger when Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy strode into the haf-giant's hut as if he owned the place, smiling a cold and satisfied smile.

* * *

><p>Scout: A Cliffhanger after so long? Come on man!<p>

Kyugan: I've been busy, alright? In any case, little more plot development, not much action, but things should pick up soon, god willing.


	14. Chapter 14 Toilet Trail

Kyugan: Yo, Medic, might wanna get your stomach pump ready.

Medic: Why? *Reads ahead* Oh Dear...I'll prepare sickbay.

Kyugan: Please do.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14: Toilet Trail.<span>

"Already here, Fudge." Lucius noted with approval, Herwald's brow quirking at the level of familiarity the suspected Death Eater had with the Minister, though considering some of the tales Draco told him, he supposed it was only natural. After all, what better way to keep an eye on one's 'investments' "Good, good…"

"What're you doin' here?" Hagrid demanded, the Half-Giant's growing terror of being sent to Azkaban instantly replaced with a look of unrestrained fury Herwald had never though possible from the man, seeming to swell to double his already impressive size at the sight of the elder Malfoy "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your…House you called it?" Lucius sneered, looking around the small cabin with palpable disdain, as if it's very existence was an affront to him personally "I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" Dumbledore asked, his tone polite, but only an idiot would have met the Headmaster's eyes at that moment, as they were still blazing with blue fire. Needless to say, the elder Malfoy had to take a moment to regain his composure, and spent the rest of the conversation subtly averting his eyes from the man.

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside." he noted lazily, the smile on his face belying his words as he pulled a long roll of parchment from under his cloak and presented it to the headmaster, his eyes locked onto some point behind the man's ear "This is an Order of Suspension, you'll find all twelve signatures on it." He pointed out with a cold smile "I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? At this rate, there'll be no Muggleborns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius!" Fudge exclaimed, looking honestly alarmed at this turn of events, as the elder Malfoy clearly hadn't seen fit to inform him pet politician of this course of action "Dumbledore suspended? No, no, that's the LAST thing we want just now."

"The appointment, or suspension, of the headmaster is a matter for the Board of Governors, Fudge," Lucius replied smoothly, his smile like syrup "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks…"

"Now see here Malfoy." Fudge interposed, surprising even Lucius with his words, the Minister's tone laced with tentative authority, though his upper lip was lined with sweat "If Dumbledore can't stop them…" he seemed to lose his momentum "I mean to say, who can?"

"That remains to be seen." Lucius opined, his lip curling into a nasty little smile as he turned his attention from the Minister, no doubt plotting to cut back on some of his 'donations' this term in favour of watching Dumbledore read the roll of parchment "But as all twelve of us have voted…"

"An' how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy?" Hagrid roared, the Half Giant's shaggy black head grazing the ceiling of his hut, which trembled in the face of his ire.

"Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid." Lucius noted, calm as could be "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" Hagrid bellowed, earning a whimper from Fang and Fudge, the two of them cowering in their basket and bowler hat respectively in the face of the Half-Giant's rage "Take him away, an' the Muggleborns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin's next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid!" Dumbledore ordered sharply, glancing at Lucius Malfoy all the while, his eyes calm, but still devoid of their usual twinkle "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside." He ignored the exclamations of Fudge and Hagrid in favour of staring into the elder Malfoy's cold gray eyes "However," he countered, speaking slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, "you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me… Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

For a second, Herwald could have sworn that Dumbledore's blue eyes flickered toward the corner he was crouching in, only his training keeping him from twitching or inhaling sharply and giving the game away. 'The old Twinkler's good alright…' he muttered, shivering as the moment passed, leaving Dumbledore standing before Hagrid, Fudge and Lucius calmly 'I can see why Grandfather Jubstacheit cautioned us about him...'

"Admirable sentiments." Lucius Malfoy opined, bowing to the Headmaster, though the cold, mocking sneer on his face belied the sincerity of his words "We shall all miss your…highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope your successor will manage to prevent any…" he glanced at the fuming Hagrid "killins."

That said, he turned on his heel, crossing the short distance to the door of the hut and opening it, bowing the straight-backed form of Dumbledore out with the same mocking, victorious smile he'd worn earlier, leaving Fudge fiddling with his bowler, the Minister waiting for Hagrid to go ahead of him, only for the Half Giant to pause, as if considering something.

"If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders." The Half-giant opined, as if speaking to Fudge, who blinked at him in amazement "That'd lead 'em right. That's all I'm sayin'."

With that said, and pointedly ignoring the look of amazement Fudge was sending him, Hagrid pulled on his moleskin overcoat, pausing only to mention that 'someone' would have to feed Fang while he was away, before following the Minister out the door and into the night, Fang howling mournfully and scratching at the closed door until Herwald, having deactivated the ring, reached down to soothe the distressed boarhound, his emerald eyes burning with a cold intensity that matched Dumbledore's own.

* * *

><p><em>Following Hagrid &amp; Dumbledore's departure... <em>

As Fudge and Hagrid predicted, Dumbledore's removal had a profound effect on the student and staff population of Hogwarts. Fear and paranoia was rampant in the lower years, and the elder Students were eyeing one another warily, jumping at shadows, wands never too far away from their hands. Several of the Seventh Years had to be admitted to the Hospital Wing suffering from nervous breakdowns, brought on by a combination of the recent turmoil and the already crippling stress from preparing for their N.E.W.T exams.

Naturally, Herwald kept the fact he'd been present for Lucius' little power play to himself, and had feigned intrigue when Draco revealed his father's latest missive, though to his friend's credit, the boy seemed just as concerned with Dumbledore's removal as the other students. After all, as 'mad' as the old man was, he was the sole reason Voldemort had never attacked Hogwarts, and had taken down the Dark Lord Grindlewald in his prime. With Dumbledore gone, it was only a matter of time before someone got killed, and judging by the strange pattern of victims, it wasn't likely to be a Muggleborn either.

"I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore." Draco opined, whispering to Herwald as they walked out of Potions class that day "I told you he thinks Dumbledore's the worst headmaster the school's ever had." He flinched at the look Herwald shot him "Don't look at me like that, I'll admit the man's mad as a hatter, but at the very least we didn't have to worry about people DYING while he was around."

Herwald said nothing, but alleviated his stare, as that was as close as Draco was likely to get to admitting Hogwarts NEEDED Dumbledore. As it was, Professor McGonagall, who was filling in, was being run ragged trying to balance her schedule with the Headmasters, as evidenced by her shortened temper and recent penchant for handing out stricter punishments.

Surprisingly, Professor Snape was confident in the Headmaster's eventual return, assuring the students that his 'leave' would be temporary and swift, and that they had much more important things to be worrying about, such as preparing for their exams.

This suited Herwald rather well, as it gave him an excuse to do a little research of his own, namely into whatever serpentine beastie that Salazar Slytherin had snuck into the castle. Whatever it was, it had to be magical, that was the only way to explain how it had survived all these years, and it had to be a serpent, which would explain the voice he'd been hearing all over the damned school up until recently.

That was another thing that unsettled him, the voices, for whatever reason, hadn't been showing up as often anymore. Back in the day he'd have at least caught a passing hiss on the wind, but for some reason the damned Serpent was keeping it's thoughts to itself.

On the one hand this could be taken as a good sign, as it meant the beast wasn't prowling the corridors anymore. On the other hand, and this was the more worrisome, it meant the culprit was either biding his time now that he'd gotten Dumbledore and his supporters either out of the picture or too flustered to think straight.

If it was the latter, then they had most certainly succeeded, as it was it was taking everything the Year heads had to keep some semblance of order in the classes. The Slytherin's, in particular, had come under heavy scrutiny by their peers, several of them had to be escorted to the Hospital wing to have assorted curses and jinxes undone, to say nothing for their attackers, who often had to stay in the Hospital wing for days.

Of course, as was always the case, there were some who REVELED in the chaos, or simply lacked the common sense to understand just how bad things were at the moment. One fine example was Lockhart, who unlike the rest of the Faculty, who couldn't have looked grimmer if it had been announced the school was to be closed, somehow managed to appear even more buoyant and foppish than usual.

* * *

><p><em>Hogwarts Library... <em>

"Can you believe that pillock?" Ron muttered, scowling venomously as he tried to work on his DADA assignment, another of Lockhart's 'little quizzes' "He actually believes that we're safe because Hagrid's been hauled off to Azkaban!"

Needless to say, Lockhart had lost whatever credibility he'd been hoping to retain with that declaration. Hagrid was considered part of the 'pride' among the Lions and was relatively well liked by most of the other houses, even if they considered him a bit of an oddball. There wasn't a student or faculty member that believed the Half-giant was involved with the attacks, though admittedly, the Slytherin's believed it was because he lacked the brains to pull it off.

But of course, Lockhart refused to see the writing on the wall, going on with disgusting cheeriness on how he'd always suspected the Groundskeeper had been up to no good, clearly a petty act at revenge for the man's dismissal of the fop's work, offering 'assurances' that the whole 'messy business' was resolved, and generally making everyone wish that the next person to be attacked was HIM.

Even Hermione, who up till now had been Lockhart's staunchest supporter, was hard put to find anything good to say about the man in the face of this recent travesty. True, she, like all those who knew Hagrid, knew of the man's unfortunate taste in pets, but even SHE couldn't believe the fop's slanderous comments, even if the Minister of Magic himself had supposedly been on the scene.

"I really wish you'd told us Herwald." She pouted, looking at her friend disapprovingly, the Einzbern having finally decided to fill the group in on what he'd witnessed that night fifty years prior "I mean, we could've said something! Hagrid was clearly unjustly expelled!"

"It wouldn't have done any good Granger." Draco muttered, shaking his head "Even if he DIDN'T open the chamber, Hagrid WAS in possession of a dangerous, ILLEGAL Magical creature and was raising it on school grounds."

"I'm afraid I gotta agree with him on this one Hermione…" Ron muttered, shivering in discomfort at the memory of Herwald's description of that night "Just possessing an Acromantulas' considered a felony, hatching one and raising it in the school could've landed him in Azkaban for reckless endangerment."

Hermione flinched, looking downcast, even as Herwald sent her a comforting look from across the table. Like it or not, while Hagrid's expulsion hadn't been for the right reason, he was still in the wrong, and would've been expelled regardless, even if Riddle HADN'T framed him for opening The Chamber. It was clear, however, that the follow-up investigation had revealed he WAS truly innocent of the crime, otherwise there was no doubt the Groundskeeper would've been buried so deeply inside Azkaban he'd be lucky they didn't forget about him.

"Still, it's too bad about that girl." Neville muttered, the Longbottom heir looking up from his work with a frown as he glanced at Herwald "What did Hagrid say her name was again?"

"Myrtle…" Herwald replied, only half-listening as he focused on his work, only to freeze, his emerald eyes widening in shock as what felt like a firecracker went off in his mind, the Einzbern getting to his feet in a rush as the others looked up in alarm "I'm an idiot…" He swore, marching away from the desk, his face lined with self-disgust as he crossed the library, not bothering to pick up his books, the others following hot on his heels "All this time it's been staring me in the face…"

"What're you on about mate?" Ron wondered, looking on in bewilderment as Herwald continued to mutter Germanic curses under his breath, some rather impressive ones considering the intensity of Draco's blush and the scandalized looks he was getting from some of the portraits "What's he saying?"

"You don't want to know!" Draco choked, the Slytherin looking more flustered than he ever had before without Rider being present, the Gryffindors blinking at him in surprise as he hurried past them, intent on keeping up with Herwald, who was already moving towards the stairs.

"Hey I recognize this hallway…" Neville exclaimed, the round-faced boy looking understandably nervous as he took in their surroundings "This is the where Mrs. Norris was attacked!"

Sure enough, the 'heir's' ominous message shone down at the students from where it had been etched, having apparently continued to defy Filch's attempts to purge it from the wall. Fortunately, it seemed the cantankerous squib had buggered off somewhere, most likely to harass some first years, leaving the corridor abandoned save for a pool of water which was flooding, as usual, out of the girl's toilet.

"Honestly…" Ron muttered, lifting his robes up so they weren't trailing in the water so much, after all he KNEW where it had come from, and just what had been in it "Can't that girl go one day without trying to drown us?"

"Herwald…!" Hermione breathed, the bushy haired Gryffindor clapping a hand over her mouth as she turned to look at the Einzbern, her eyes shining with realization "You don't think…"

"Don't think what?" Ron wondered, looking at the girl in confusion, only to blink as Herwald ignored him and marched towards the door of the bathroom "Mate? If you needed to use the loo there was one near the library…"

"Weasley, were you BORN retarded?" Draco demanded, the Malfoy heir glaring at the youngest Weasley brother pointedly, ignoring the flush of anger the redhead sported "Think, what did he just say the name of the girl that was killed last time was?"

Ron opened his mouth to reply only to freeze, his angry flush replaced with a look of stunned wonderment as he turned to glance at the door to the bathroom. "It would make sense…" Hermione reasoned, looking stunned but troubled as they followed Herwald in "I mean, she's wearing the school uniform, and some ghosts tend to linger around the places they died, especially if it were a violent death."

"I dunno about that…" Ron muttered, the youngest Weasley Brother shivering as he eyed the door to the girls lavatory as if it were the gates of hell itself "I mean, if I died in the loo I wouldn't want to stick around."

"On that issue I believe we can agree, Weasley..." Draco opined, Neville stepping between the two before Ron could say anything, even as Herwald knocked on the cubicle door which Myrtle usually lurked behind, opening the door to find Moaning Myrtle sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you." The female ghost noted, regarding the group with her usual morose glare, though she seemed to brighten slightly at the sight of Herwald "What do you want this time?"

"Forgive the intrusion, Frau-Myrtle." Herwald apologized offering a polite bow, knowing it was better to approach such a topic cautiously, as ghosts tended to be particularly unpredictable when it came to the manner of their death "But my friends and I were wondering if you might enlighten us as to how you died."

Myrtle blinked, as if thrown by his language, and for a moment Herwald braced himself to dodge a sink or whatever lurked in the bowls of the toitlet bowl, only to relax as the spectre's features brightened, becoming a more notable silver as she beamed at him, looking for all the world like a teenage girl that had just been complimented by an elder man.

"Oooh, it was dreadful…!" she revealed with relish, practically hugging herself, as if the memory of what did her in was some pleasurable experience. It was quite an unnerving sight really, considering how morose she usually was "It happened right in here." She explained, gesturing to the stall around her "I died in this very stall. I remember it so well, I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses." She scowled at the memory of her one time tormentor, but recovered quickly "The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in."

By now the rest of the group were paying full attention, Hermione actually taking notes, as this could be the clue they needed to prove Hagrid and Dumbledore's innocence.

"They said something funny." Myrtle muttered, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall what had been said "I couldn't understand a word of it, so it must have been in a different language." She shrugged dismissively "In any case, what REALLY got my attention was that it was a BOY speaking, so I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then…" she swelled importantly, clearly enjoying the attention she was receiving as she released a low, satisfied sigh "I died."

"How?" Herwald asked, trying not to think about how satisfying the Ghost's sigh had been. It was rather like the sighs Rin, Sakura and occasionally Rider would emit when they tried sneaking out of Shirou's room without being noticed. Ilya could be VERY protective when she wanted to be, as Herwald knew all too well, and with their inclusion into Shirou's life, his step-brother's 'trysts' between the Tohsaka siblings and the Servant had to be carried out with greater care, lest they bring the wrath of Ilyasviel AND Taiga down on their heads.

"I have no idea." Myrtle admitted in hushed, almost embarrassed tones, Ron and Draco stumbling at the anti-climactic admission "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes." She gripped her arms tightly "My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…"

The group shivered as she looked dreamily at them, unnerved by the look of absolute bliss on her features. The sole exception was Herwald, whose mind was working a mile a minute to process what he'd just learned.

There were only so many things that possessed natural mystic eyes. It ran in certain Magus family's, but this was usually a type of genetic Magecraft that resulted from tampering or cross-breeding with a magical species to obtain a desired effect. It wasn't so common in Western Magi, but there were apparently a number of families in Japan that had crossed their lines with demons, spirits and other such apparitions in order to produce more powerful offspring. Such families tended to keep to themselves, though it wasn't uncommon for some to seek out magical training abroad.

'A large snake that can kill with a single glance…' he muttered, narrowing his eyes at the imagery that arose in his mind 'Can't be very many of those…wish Rider was here, she could probably narrow it down…'

"And then I came back." Myrtle continued, apparently so wrapped up in her story that she didn't notice Herwald wasn't paying attention "I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" Hermione asked, her tone polite and inquisitive, Herwald snapping out of his thoughts to pay sharper attention to what was being said.

"Somewhere over there…" Myrtle revealed, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet, the group turning, as one, to look at it, Herwald marching towards it while Neville took several deliberate steps AWAY from it, as if half expecting whatever had killed the girl to leap out and attack them.

His fears, however, seemed unfounded, as despite its worn, unused appearance, Herwald's examination revealed that it was simply an ordinary sink. Ordinary, that is, save for the fact it was BRIMMING with the same Prana that flowed through the walls of Hogwarts, giving life to the stairs and suits of armour, allowing the secret passages to work, and generally powering the wards.

'Quite ingenious…' the Einzbern muttered, letting his hands wash over the deceptively plain, filthy sink with intrigue, as if searching for any cracks in the porcelain 'If I weren't looking for it I'd have never noticed it…whoever designed this must have been a genius.'

The magic seemed to centre in on one of the copper taps, and upon careful inspection, Herwald soon discovered a small, almost invisible snake scratched into the side of the fixture. "That tap's never worked." Myrtle opined brightly, looking on in bemused interest as the Einzbern tried, unsuccessfully, to turn the blasted thing.

"Of course it wouldn't…" Herwald muttered, the alchemist in training kicking himself for thinking it'd be that easy "If it was as simple as turning the head ANYONE could've let the beast out..."

"Let me try…" Hermione asked, Herwald looking up to see the bushy haired girl looking positively eager, stepping back with a nod to give her room as she aimed her wand at the tap "Alohomora!"

For a moment, nothing happened, the group, which had tensed, as if expecting something to leap out and attack them, slowly relaxing their guard as Hermione frowned at the tap. Then all hell broke loose as a torrent of murky water blasted out of the sink, knocking the girl off her feet.

"BLOODY HELL!" Ron swore, the redhead scrambling backwards along with an alarmed Draco and Neville, the three boys lifting their robes out of the murky water in alarm, and more than a little disgust.

"Oh Merlin, don't tell me that's what I think it is-!" Draco moaned, the Malfoy heir looking positively sickened by the sight of the filthy water as he stood on tip-toes to avoid standing in it.

"Hermione!" Neville exclaimed, sloshing through the water along with Herwald towards where their friend had fallen, his robes held up in one hand "Are you alright?"

"I think I swallowed some of it…" Hermione whimpered, looking like a waterlogged kitten as she allowed the boys to hoist her to her feet, her features pale, tinged with green as they helped her towards the exit "Oh god…I feel sick…"

"We'll get you to Madam Pomfrey…" Herwald assured her, ignoring the cackles of Moaning Myrtle as the Ghost rolled about in the muck, clearly having the best day of her death as the students hurried out of the flooded, stinking bathroom.

* * *

><p><em>MEDIC!<em>

"That was the most unpleasant experience in my entire life…" Draco muttered, the Malfoy heir looking decidedly disgusted as they returned to the Library to pick up their things before their next class.

"I don't see what YOU'RE Complaining about." Hermione muttered, scowling at the boy as she chugged down a potion to ensure she didn't catch anything from whatever she'd swallowed "YOU didn't get drenched in the stuff."

"Like I said, Myrtle's barmy for haunting that place." Ron muttered, shaking his head in exasperation as they moved into the library "I mean the thing can hurt ghosts, right? Why the hell would she stay there even after Nick got attacked?"

"Because, as you so delicately put it two seconds ago Weasley, she's BARMY." Draco muttered, clearly wanting to wash his hands, and other parts, of the matter as they returned to their table, ignoring the suspicious looks of Madam Pince "Let's just forget about her for now and get on with our work, the exams won't pass themselves after all."

Ron muttered under his breath but said nothing, the Gryffindors and Slytherins settling down at the table, only for Herwald to pull up short as he stared at his spot. "Herwald?" Neville asked, looking up at the boy in confusion as he continued to stare at his corner as if it were rigged to explode "Something wrong?

"Someone moved my books." The Einzbern muttered, his emerald eyes narrowing as he glared at the space before him, earning looks of surprise from the others "It's faint, but the books aren't the way I left them."

"You're being paranoid man." Ron countered, though the redhead sounded a little nervous even as he said it,eyeing the stacks of books around them warily for any lurking shadows "I mean, how can you even tell?"

"Well for starters, I'm pretty sure I wasn't looking at the mating rituals of Veela when we sat down." Herwald replied dryly, gesturing to the book before him, earning a choke from Ron, a blush from Neville, a snort from Draco, a pair of sniggers from Crabbe and Goyle and a disapproving frown from Hermione that didn't QUITE conceal her own blush "Secondly, the books are NOT in the order I stacked them."

"Trust me, Weasley, Herwald's eye for detail is better than a Goblin's." Draco cut in, raising a hand to silence Ron's protests ""Alchemy requires that one be constantly aware of what's going on around them. If he says something's wrong, there's something wrong."

Herwald nodded, the Einzbern running his eyes over his tampered belongings, as if searching for any concealed traps, only for his eyes to narrow as he realized something was missing, a certain black notebook that had been purchased in Vauxhall Road, London, and had survived being flushed down a haunted toilet.

"Riddle's Diary is gone."

* * *

><p>And so things are heating up.<p>

Herwald's going to be on the blood warpath now.


	15. Chapter 15 Fatal Reflections

Kyugan: Bit early but I figured I'd make up for two cliffhangers in a row.

Spy: How generous of you.

Kyugan: I'm all heart, really I am.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 15: Fatal Reflections.<span>

The loss, or rather, the theft of Riddle's diary had been a dastardly blow to Herwald, one that needled at him incessantly as the days went on.

How could he have been so stupid as to forget his belongings? Even if he HAD been caught up in the realisation that Myrtle was the fatality from the last time the Chamber had been opened? It was a sloppy, inexperienced thing to do, and Herwald liked to think he'd grown past such failings.

Apparently he hadn't, and so the adopted Einzbern was inconsolable for the next few days, refusing to speak to anyone if he didn't have to, though he was at least civil about it. The others tried to console him, tried to assure him that it wasn't such a big deal, but even THEY didn't truly believe their halfhearted words, as in all honesty it WAS a tremendous miscalculation on his part.

True, the contents of Riddle's diary wouldn't go a long way towards exonerating Hagrid, it proved he hadn't released Slytherin's monster, true, but it also proved he'd brought an Acromantula into the school, which was almost as bad, if not worse, for while the beast hadn't killed anyone, that they knew of, it was still a highly dangerous magical beast that by all rights shouldn't have existed. If anything, bringing Riddle's diary to the attention of the proper authorities would more than likely get the groundskeeper in even hotter water than he was at the moment.

However, what REALLY got Herwald's goat was that he'd let the damn thing out of his sight even for a moment. He'd been so caught up in trying to solve the mystery he'd completely lost his common sense and gone dashing after the first clue they'd had in weeks.

'If Snape ever caught wind of it, he'd probably chastise me for acting like a Gryffindor…' the adopted Einzbern muttered blithely, shaking his head in wry amusement as he stepped out of his Transfiguration class, where McGonagall had just informed them that, attacks or not, they would all still be sitting Exams come the first of June, something that caused mixed feelings amongst the student body.

The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, with the exception of Hermione naturally, were completely thrown and distressed to learn they were still being forced to prove they'd been paying attention during class for the past year. A fair few Slytherin first years were of the same frame of mind, though the rest of the house were pretty much of the same frame of mind as the Ravenclaws, who had been quietly prepping for said exams for some time now.

"Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible." McGonagall had informed them as she escorted the Slytherin's to their next class three days ago "And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

'I have to applaud their commitment.' Herwald noted, nodding his head as he slipped into the main hall along with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, the quartet taking up their usual seats at the Slytherin table for breakfast along with the rest of their year 'To maintain the status-quot with a monster on the loose…perhaps there's something to be said for the hiring standards after all.'

Any self-respecting Magus knew that, in the pursuit of knowledge, their life was forfeit. Many took calculated risks KNOWING that, if it backfired, they'd be putting their lives, and the lives of anyone caught in the blast radius, in danger. Even the Flamels had faced failure after failure before finally managing to craft the True Philosopher's Stone. Nicholas had called it trial by error; Perenelle had called it a 'learning experience'.

'I wonder what they'd call running a school when a giant serpent is running around murdering people using the plumbing?' he wondered idly, shaking his head as he prepared to leave the table, only to look up as Professor McGonagall got to her feet, before proceeding to make another announcement.

"I have good news." The Deputy-Headmistress called out, the Great Hall, instead of falling silent as was traditional, immediately erupted into cheers as several people started trying to guess what she was going to say, only to be silenced when she let off several firecrackers with her wand. "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last." She revealed, earning looks of relief from the students "Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

* * *

><p><em>Following McGonagall's Announcement... <em>

"Glad that's sorted…" Draco muttered, looking a tad relieved as he tried to blot out the resulting explosion of noise that erupted from the surrounding students "Looks like we were worried for nothing."

"Perhaps…" Herwald muttered, the Einzbern's emerald eyes sharp as he glanced around the hall, trying to spot anyone acting out of place amongst the revelers The theft of Riddle's diary had left the Einzbern paranoid, even more so than usual, as it struck him as too convenient to be something as petty as a school prank, and the only people who would DARE prank him were the Weasley Twins, and they were still trying to get even with him for the time he'd somehow managed to glue them to their brooms during Quidditch practice.

A flicker of movement drew his attention to Ginny Weasley, who unlike the rest of the Gryffindors was looking decidedly tense and nervous, twisting her hands in her lap, a look of apprehension on her face that was eerily familiar for some reason. "What's wrong?" Draco wondered, looking at his friend in confusion, following his gaze only to blink at the sight of the youngest Weasley "Merlin she looks horrible, haven't seen anyone that nervous since Dobby burnt dinner…"

"Dobby?" Herwald repeated, the adopted Einzbern tensing at the familiar name, turning his head slightly to regard the heir of Malfoy with his trademark calculating emerald stare "Is that a servant?"

"Hmm? Oh no, just one of our house elves." Draco countered, shaking his head dismissively as he turned back to his breakfast "Nervous little thing, never seems to do anything right, I've lost track of the times Father's lost his temper with it."

"You don't say…" Herwald noted, keeping his features neutral, though on the inside his mind was reeling with the implications. True, the name Dobby wasn't THAT unique, house elves seemed to gravitate towards odd names like bees to pollen, but Draco's own revelation that 'their' Dobby was clumsy, prone to invoking his father's ire, and had apparently burned the elder Malfoy's supper on one occasion made it clear that their Dobby and the Dobby who'd been trying to helpfully murder him over the year were one and the same.

However, what held his primary concern was that Dobby's master, by the elf's own, unwitting admission, knew something of what was going on at Hogwarts at the moment, and was probably the CAUSE of the current situation. While Herwald knew for a fact that Draco was innocent, well, at the very least innocent of any involvement with the current crisis, the same could not be said for the elder Malfoy, who had made his disdain for those he considered 'inferior' or 'blood traitors' abundantly clear in their brief meeting oh so long ago.

'And the Weasley's are a Pureblood family.' He muttered, casting another look towards the Gryffindor table, where Ginny seemed to be trying to talk to Ron 'I'd hate to see what his stance is on Muggleborns.'

"I wonder what's gotten into her?" Draco muttered, looking on with detached interest as Ginny jump out of her seat as if it had been electrified, sending a fleeting, frightened look towards her elder brother Percy, who was looking rather haggard at the moment, before scampering away, allowing the elder Weasley to claim her seat "She looks like she's about to fall apart."

"Who knows?" Herwald shrugged, though his eyes were calculating as he glanced from the doors to the hall, which the youngest Weasley had just raced through, to Percy, who was looking rather harangued, even BEFORE Ron started pestering him for apparently frightening Ginny "Seems she caught her brother doing something he doesn't want her talking about…"

"Probably caught him making out with that Clearwater girl…" a voice noted, Herwald looking up to see Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin Girl who he occasionally met in the library, smirking wryly as she turned the page of her textbook "Parkinson was going on about it with Bulstrode the other day. Apparently they saw Weasley and Clearwater, one of the Ravenclaw prefects, making out in a classroom when they were supposed to be on duty."

"Now that's blackmail material…" Draco snickered, shaking his head in amusement at the idea of 'perfect' Percy Weasley acting like an ordinary teen, hormones and all "No wonder she's so nervous, he probably threatened to jinx her if she talked."

"No self-respecting Magus would harm a family member, Draco." Herwald countered, though he had his fingers crossed as he said it, as the Einzberns raised WORSE than hands against one another in their bid to come out on top "No, I think it might be something else that has the little Fraulein spooked…"

Before he could elaborate on the subject any further, a large owl swooped into the hall, different from the usually messenger owls in its size, and the fact that, despite its appearance, it wasn't a living thing.

'One of Rin's familiars?' the adopted Einzbern wondered, looking at the living, disguised jewel in surprise as it swooped in low and alighted atop the Slytherin table, ignoring the hiss of suspicion from Draco's Eagle Owl, which had brought the usual box of sweets from his mother, as it dropped a letter into his lap before flying off again 'Took her long enough.'

Rin, being the tightfisted tsundere that she was, was naturally reluctant to use her jewel craft if she could avoid it, ESPECIALLY on something that could be done better, and less expensively, like calling someone. However, despite a crash course in computer studies, which she'd REALLY taken to after learning it was more efficient and cheaper than her other sources, the only way to get a message in and out of Hogwarts was via owl post, and considering Rider's dislike of the birds due to their ties to Athena, that was pushing it.

'Looks like she finally managed to get some information on whatever the hell is stalking the corridors…' he noted, recalling sending off the missive not long after Riddle's little memory show 'Let's see here…'

_'Herwald-kun, sorry it took so long getting back to you but things have been getting rather hectic, what with Ilya and Fujimura-sensei's bickering, Shirou's training and that old bloodsucker FINALLY getting round to processing my application.'_

'So Zelretch finally decided she'd had enough…' he snorted, smiling at the elder Tohsaka's predicament. Every Magus worth their circuits knew of Zelretch of the gemstone, undisputed master of the 2nd True Magic, the killer of Crimson Moon Brunstud, and one of the oldest living Magi to date. It was also well known that Zelretch had a rather twisted sense of humour, and that anyone unfortunate enough to catch his eye was to commit themselves to being the old vampire's plaything until he either grew bored or they passed away, whichever came first.

'Knowing Rin's temper, it's more likely to be the latter…' Herwald muttered, grimacing as he recalled how the elder magus reacted when pushed too far. To a sadist like Zelretch, that was like having Christmas come early.

_'In any case…'_ Rin's message continued, _'I came across a passage in one of my Father's old journals, apparently he used a fossilized piece of skin shed from a snake to summon his Servant during the last war. Normally I wouldn't bother with such things, but he'd apparently kept it for research purposes, a good thing too, as it managed to point me in the right direction.'_

'She just can't admit she was curious to see what her father was working on…' Herwald snorted, shaking his head at the elder Tohsaka's stubbornness. No matter how much Rin might deny the fact, she'd never truly gotten over her father's death. She's made some headway when she'd killed Kirei during the Grail War, but it was still a slow going process.

_'In any case,'_ he continued to read _'it turns out while researching the 'Oldest Snake' he did some research on other magical Serpents as a side project. One of the Serpents he documented was the Basilisk, otherwise known as the King of Serpents._ _According to my father's copy of 'Fantastic Beasts' by Newt Scamander, it's a magical Serpent born from hatching a chicken's egg under a toad. They're pretty durable, can survive for hundreds of years, even in places with little to no prey.'_

'Well that certainly explains how it's managed to survive for fifty years locked in the chamber…' Herwald muttered grimly, shuddering at the idea of having to face something so long-lived on it's home turf 'never mind the centuries since Slytherin's banishment.'

_'You mentioned that the Spider's were all fleeing the castle right? Well according to Rider, Spiders of all types, magical and otherwise, flee before the Basilisk, apparently they're its main prey, the bigger the better, though older Basilisks will eat just about anything.'_

'I suppose she'd know them better than anyone.' Herwald muttered, recalling the conversation with Draco's summoned snake during the Dueling club 'She's technically a patron goddess of snakes after all.'

_'According to Rider, the only thing a Basilisk fears is the crowing of a Rooster, which is fatal to it. Rider says it was an intentional, built in flaw designed to ensure the beast could be controlled.'_

'It would certainly explain why Hagrid's Roosters have been dying off.' Herwald muttered recalling the Half-giant's complaints on the matter with a scowl 'Whoever the hell is opening the chamber wouldn't want their pet being killed off just because they lost track of time…and Rooster's don't just call at first light.'

_'The only problem with the theory is that a Basilisk doesn't petrify their enemies before eating them. Venom aside, what makes them so incredibly dangerous is their Mystic Eyes of Death, which can kill anything that looks the snake in the eyes even for an instant.'_

'Of course it couldn't be that easy…' Herwald muttered, grimacing at the one flaw in the otherwise perfect case. Even if the string of events surrounding the case matched up, namely the spiders fleeing the castle, Hagrid's roosters being slaughtered and the fact he himself had been hearing a God-damned SERPENT slithering around the halls, the fact remained that all the 'Heir's' victims had been petrified but, with the obvious exception of Sir Nicholas, left very much alive, with no signs of physical injury. Then again, a creature that could kill with its eyes alone more than likely didn't NEED to resort to its venom.

_'Normally I'd suggest getting the hell out of there as soon as you can, or at least letting the faculty know so they can take proper measures.' _Rin continued_ 'Then again, if you're anything like Shirou, you'd probably wind up challenging the damned thing head on out of principle.'_

'I'm not THAT reckless…' Herwald muttered, sweat-dropping at the reminder of his step-brother's hero complex, as the elder son of Kiritsugu WOULD try to tackle a Basilisk head on if it meant saving people's lives 'Seriously, give me some credit…'

_'As to the matter of your 'living diary', I have to admit that's a first for me.'_ The message went on, Rin's interest clear in how hurriedly she was writing _'While there have been numerous occasions of a Magus recording their memories in a more literal sense, I've yet to come across a case where one enchanted their Diary to such an extent it could converse as if it WERE the Magus themselves in my father's journals. The best thing I can suggest is to hang onto it until you come home, and I'll take it with me when Shirou and I go to the Clock Tower.'_

Herwald grimaced, already imagining the look on Rin's face when the elder Tohsaka learned he'd left the diary out of his sight for even a second, never mind the fact he'd allowed it to be stolen in the first place. While he suspected Riddle hadn't been entirely forthcoming, and rightfully so, the teen had been a Slytherin after all, his Diary had nonetheless been a tremendous discovery, a valuable research tool that any Magus would've killed to get their hands on for the sake of being the first to dissect its secrets.

'She won't stop at cutting remarks…' the Einzbern muttered, shivering as he recalled that pretty, yet undoubtedly intimidating smile the elder Tohsaka liked to employ when someone, usually Shirou, did something she considered completely idiotic 'She'll probably even use sarcasm…hmm?'

He paused, all thoughts of Rin's sure-to-come admonishments vanishing as his eyes noticed something in the corner of the letter, something that had been scrawled in a hand that was different from Rin's, apparent in the fact it wasn't written in Japanese, but rather in Greek.

'Περσεύς?' he wondered, frowning at the characters written in an unfamiliar script, though he could immediately tell who had put it there, as truth be told, there was really only one person in the house who knew the language fluently enough to be able to write it ' Isn't that the Greek pronunciation of Perseus?'

"Something the matter, Herwald?" Draco asked, not even bothering to hide his interest in the boy's letter, though he knew better than to try reading over his shoulder. The last time someone tried to, they'd gotten a face-full of pumpkin juice.

"A member of the family got into the Clock Tower." Herwald replied swiftly, grateful that Draco hadn't learned kanji or hiragana as he tucked the letter out of sight, it would've made keeping the secret all the harder, and he didn't want to drag his friends any deeper down the rabbit hole, or snake hole rather, than they'd already come "Come on, we need to get to class."

* * *

><p><em>DADA...<em>

Herwald put off trying to interpret Rider's missive until DADA, ignoring Lockhart as was the norm and instead trying to interpret Rider's scrawl, which was a good word for it, as the Servant's handwriting was deplorable.

'Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen her use a pen before…' he muttered, frowning at the notion 'I know she's always reading, but then the translation spells worked into the summoning ritual probably helps in that regard...it's not like they had ball-point pens back in Ancient Greece.'

Shaking his head at the brief image of Agrippa or Ptolemy playing with a lead pencil, he turned his attention back to Rider's hint, screwing up his eyes as he peered at the Greek letters. 'What are you trying to tell me Rider?' he wondered, as if the letters were wont to answer him as Riddle's diary had 'What does Perseus have to do with this?'

The legendary founder of Mycenae and the Perseid Dynasty, Perseus was arguably the first of the mythic heroes of Greek mythology, predating even Heracles, whose exploits in defeating the various archaic monsters provided the founding myths of the Twelve Olympians. He was most famous for killing the Gorgon Medusa, using her severed head to rescue Princess Andromeda from a sea monster sent by Poseidon in retribution for Queen Cassiopeia declaring herself more beautiful than the sea nymphs.

'Or at least that's the OFFICIAL version…' Herwald noted wryly, shaking his head as he recalled Rider's description of the Hero. 'A more successful Shinji' she'd called him, which just about said it all really, especially when you considered precisely HOW Perseus had gone about claiming the Gorgon's head.

Any other Hero would've charged right in or devised some cunning trap to place Medusa at a disadvantage. Perseus had snuck in while Medusa had been asleep, using a reflective shield to avoid being petrified, and then lopped off her head before skulking off before her sisters could…!'

He trailed off, emerald eyes widening as realization struck him like one of Zeus' infamous thunderbolts, sending jolts up and down his spine.

'Gott im Himmel…' he breathed, staring at nothing as all the pieces FINALLY began locking into place 'So that's it…nobody's died yet because no-one's looked the damned thing right in the eye…'

Meeting a basilisk's gaze was an assured kill, Moaning Myrtle was verification enough of that, but up until Myrtle, and indeed for the most part afterwards, no-one had died the two times the beast had been released over the past fifty years. It could simply be that the Heir back then hadn't been expecting Myrtle and had panicked, but if that were the case, why stop after the kill? For that matter, why was the 'New' Heir following their predecessor's example so flawlessly? More than likely it's because they haven't gotten it to look anyone in the eye directly.

'Colin saw it through his camera,' Herwald deduced, features grim as Lockhart's ramblings faded into the distance 'As for Justin, he probably had the good fortune of being right behind Sir Nicholas when the beast struck, so the effect would've been filtered.'

It certainly explained how a GHOST could be affected, Mystic Eyes were an unpredictable form of Magic, some had a limited effect, such as Ilyasviel's Eyes of binding, whereas others, like Rider's Eyes of Petrification, were more permanent, requiring they be restrained by extraneous means.

'I imagine Magical Eyes of Death would affect ANYTHING that met them…' the Einzbern mused as he chewed his thumbnail 'Sir Nicholas was simply lucky to have already been dead at the time.'

It was all making sense now, all the pieces finally fitting together like peas in a pod. Even Mrs. Norris, the detestable old feline, was explainable; the malignant moggy most likely saw the Basilisk's reflection in the water coming out of Myrtle's bathroom. The Heir probably knew the Ghost wouldn't be there with the Deathday Party going on and had let the beast loose for a little all-hallows hunt.

'And it's been using the damned Plumbing to move around the campus…' he swore, impressed despite himself with the heir's resourcefulness, even as the bell rang, signalling the end of Lockhart's posturing 'Whoever they were, they had the entire school right where they wanted it, and no-one was any wiser.'

He was just about to get up from his desk, all but ignoring Lockhart as the fool tried to usher them out, only to look up as Professor McGonagall's magically magnified voice stilled them in their places.

**_"All students to return to their House dormitories at once." _**She declared, her voice echoing throughout the otherwise silent halls of the castle **_"All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please."_**

"What, now?" Lockhart exclaimed, the fop looking most put out, as he escorted them out into the hall towards the dungeon "Honestly, first she has me standing guard all night and now this? I've quite enough to be getting on with without having to escort children to their own dormitory's…"

"Quite right, Sir…" Herwald agreed, the Slytherin's halting in their glaring at Lockhart in favour of gaping at the Einzbern, Draco even going so far as drop his book-bag on Goyle's foot "Especially considering Slytherin Dormitory is located at the bottom of the castle, so it's not likely we'd get lost."

"Too true Harry, too true!" Lockhart agreed, beaming at his fellow 'celebrity', apparently glad to see someone else that shared his (lack of) common sense "I'm sure you can take care of yourselves, I'll just nip back to my office to freshen up quickly, can't keep a lady waiting!"

"As you will sir." Herwald offered, watching the ponce prance off to powder his nose, only to turn to find Draco, Crabbe and Goyle standing in the hallway, the Malfoy Heir looking at him in annoyance "Yes?"

"Don't 'yes' me Herwald." Draco snapped, standing before his friend with his hands on his hips "Buttering up to Lack-brain aside, I was watching you during class." his glare relented in the face of Herwald's quirked brow " You've been moping for days remember? Then you get that letter from your family and now you're suddenly back to your usual devious self." He smirked at the Einzbern " You've figured something out, haven't you?"

"Heaven spare me from perceptive friends…" Herwald snorted, shaking his head with a wry smile even as Crabbe and Goyle snickered, the quartet moving to rejoin the rest of their year as they made their way back to the dorms "I think I've figured out what's attacking the students." He revealed as they walked, earning looks of surprise from his friend "I was actually planning on telling Potion's Master Snape during Potion's Class but now…"

"We'll cover for you." Draco assured the teen, raising a hand to halt Herwald's protests with a determined frown "Don't argue, the minute we get to the dorms, let Flint see you and then do that vanishing trick of yours to get to the Staff Room, if Flint asks, I'll just say you're taking a nap."

"Staff Room's on the fourth Floor." Crabbe grunted in what must have been an attempt to be quiet, bless the brute "Fifth door on the right."

"Danke…" Herwald offered, the quartet sharing a silent nod as they crossed the threshold into the Slytherin Dungeon, Herwald making a point to stop to speak to Marcus Flint before slipping out of sight, activating the Potter ring and making his escape out the door just before it shut behind the last of the first years, literally running up the stairs, heedless of the noise he was making, mentally counting down the doors as he reached the fourth floor, slipping in scant seconds behind a worried looking Flitwick, the already excitable Charms Master clearly on edge as he jumped as Herwald brushed past him, whipping out his wand and firing off a stunner.

"Fillius! What on earth's the matter?" Pomona Sprout called out, the Herbology Mistress eyeing her fellow Head of House in concern, along with the rest of the staff, with the exception of Binns, who seemed to be staring off into space.

"Nothing," Flitwick assured them, though Herwald swore he saw a scowl on the diminutive magus' features as he glanced out the doorway "Just nerves I suppose, been jumping at shadows all day..."

"I imagine everyone's nerves are rather frayed at the moment, Fillius." Snape assured the man, covertly slipping his wand back up his sleeve with a practiced movement "Perhaps Minerva can set our minds to rest when she gets here."

As if the words were a summons, the door to the staff room opened, admitting the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor house herself. However, if her peers were expecting Dumbledore's second to be the bearer of good news, they were to be sorely disappointed, for the look on the Transfiguration Mistress' face was one of absolute loss and defeat.

"It has happened." She told the silent staff room, and Herwald was surprised to note her voice, usually so controlled save for when her temper was stoked, sounded as fragile as fine crystal "A student has been taken by the monster, right into the Chamber itself."

* * *

><p>Spy: So, your 'making up' for two cliff'angers with anozer cliff'anger?<p>

Kyugan: Maybe, at least this chapter proves Rin and co. aren't just sitting on the sidelines. They actually have their own studies to worry about.


	16. Chapter 16: Into The Chamber

Kyugan: Bit early but I figured I'd make up for two cliffhangers in a row.

Spy: How generous of you.

Kyugan: I'm all heart, really I am.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 16: Into the chamber.<span>

The effect of McGonagall's words on the rest of the Hogwarts Faculty was catastrophic, to say the least. Some, such as Professor Flitwick cried out in alarm or felt the need to sit down very suddenly. Others, such as Professor Sprout, simply clapped a hand, or both, over their mouths in a bid to keep themselves from crying out, though their eyes showed nothing short of remorse.

"How can you be sure?" Snape demanded, the hook-nosed Potion's Master seemingly the only one who managed to retain his composure, though Herwald, cloaked as he was by the Potter Ring, noted that the man's grip on the back of his chair was so hard that the knuckles of his long, intricate fingers were beginning to turn white.

"The Heir of Slytherin…" Professor McGonagall continued, her face as white as a death mask as she stopped to clear her throat "The CULPRIT, has left another message underneath the first one…" she took a shaking breath and continued "He said 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever'…"

Herwald couldn't help but curse aloud at the revelation, only Professor Flitwick bursting into tears preserving the Einzbern's cover, though he shifted slightly to avoid Snape's sharp eyes.

It looked like the Heir HAD been the one to dispose of Riddle's diary the first time, and was most likely the one responsible for its theft. It was simply too much of a coincidence that the attacks had stopped for the duration of the time Herwald had possessed the Diary, only to start up again the moment it had been stolen.

'Which means they were either someone in the library that day…' he muttered darkly 'Or someone has been following me.'

Paranoia aside, the latter was actually more than a little likely, as even after his little slip of the Parseltongue, Herwald still found himself looking up to see people eyeing im from across hallways, behind books and the like. Not only that, while loitering was generally prohibited in the Library, there was no law stating you had to check books out every time you went in, if anything, Madam Pince probably preferred the Students left the books where they were.

'Who was in the Library that day?' he wondered, struggling to recall the other patrons, cursing Madam Pince and her lack of a proper recording system. Any MUNDANE librarian would've had students check themselves in and out, in order to account for their location, Pince was simply glad to see them go.

"Who is it?" Madam Hooch asked shakily, the Flying Coach snapping Herwald out of his thoughts even as she sank heavily into a chair, her knees too weak to support her "Which student?"

"Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall managed to get out, Herwald's eyes widening in alarm at the revelation, recalling the look on Ginny's face that morning as she fled from the Gryffindor table "We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," McGonagall continued, seemingly as much to herself as it was for her fellow Staff "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…"

The staffroom door banged open again, the Staff whipping round, some of them with looks of expectation on their faces, as if hoping against hope that the man's name had acted as a summons, and their headmaster had been returned to them, only to be brutally disappointed at the sight of Gilderoy Lockhart standing in the doorway, in a set of well-cut robes that he hadn't been wearing earlier, his blonde hair freshly curled and his trademark dazzling smile in place.

"So sorry," he offered, putting on the illusion that he'd been running, though Herwald could tell the man wasn't even winded from his lack of a flush "Must have dozed off, what have I missed?"

Herwald wanted to roll his eyes at the fop's statement, a sentiment that was apparently shared by many of the Hogwarts Staff, many of whom were eyeing the man with a level of distaste that one would normally associated with a leper. WORSE even, for lepers, at least, invoked some modicum of pity even in the coldest of hearts, right now the only pity Herwald suspected the staff held for the fop was that HE hadn't been the one the Basilisk decided to take with it.

"Just the man." Snape declared, the Potions Master stepping forwards with a cold smile, the kind of smile a torturer makes when he's cornered his prey, clapping the understandably confused Lockhart on the shoulder "Your moment has come at last, Lockhart, a girl has been snatched by the monster, taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself."

Lockhart blanched, his eyes widening in shock as he gaped at the older man, trying to back away, only to find that the Potions Master's grip on his shoulder prevented retreat, the man instead glancing wide-eyed towards the rest of the staff, as if to seek their assistance, only to

"That's right, Gilderoy." chipped in Professor Sprout, the normally cheerful Hufflepuff Head looking decidedly vindictive even as she smiled at the man "Weren't you just saying the night before that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"Indeed." Professor Flitwick piped up, the Ravenclaw Head cutting off Lockhart's stammering, Herwald's brow quirking at the decidedly Goblin-like smile on the Charms Masters' face "Why I DO believe you told me you were CERTAIN you knew what was inside it?"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested." Snape recalled, and here Herwald had to suppress as shiver, as the animosity in the room grew to the extent it actually caused the temperature to drop several degrees "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

"I…I really never…" Lockhart stammered, the cornered DADA Professor looking remarkably like the late Matou Shinji as he stared at his stony-faced colleagues, as if hoping they were having him on "you may have misunderstood-!"

"We shall leave it to you, then, Gilderoy." McGonagall cut in, the Deputy Headmistress having apparently recovered her composure, her back straighter than a cast-iron poker as she somehow managed to tower over Lockhart despite him behind half a head taller than the Transfiguration Mistress if she removed her hat "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself."

'Beware the cat bearing a grudge indeed…' Herwald muttered, unable to help the smirk of approval at the woman's words even as a shiver of apprehension washed over him from her tone, so eerily like Rin's whenever she was sufficiently vexed 'Doubly so for Female Cat Animagi.'

If Herwald was feeling apprehensive, however, it was NOTHING compared to how Lockhart must have felt under McGonagall's frosty, catlike stare. Unable to flee with Snape's hand on his shoulder, the fop continued to gaze desperately around him, hoping for some modicum of pity from his peers, only to realize that he was well and truly up shit creek without a boat when nobody came to the rescue.

'Not so handsome any more either…' Herwald noted, sneering in disgust at the sight of the weak-chinned, feeble looking man as he watched Lockhart's lip begin to tremble as if he was about to burst into tears 'And me without a camera…wonder how his fans would react to this?'

"V-very well…" the fop stammered, averting his eyes from the merciless, imposing stares of his less than amiable peers "I'll…I'll just be in my office, getting…getting ready."

He fled the room, Snape releasing the man's shoulder, wiping himself off as he did so, allowing Gilderoy to finally flee like he'd been wishing, the door slamming shut behind the fop with an ominous crack.

* * *

><p><em>As Lockhart Buggers off...<em>

"Right." McGonagall intoned, her nostril's flaring and her eyes once again brimming with her traditional Scottish fire as she rounded on the staff "That's got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow." She turned to the rest of the faculty "In the meantime, will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories?"

The teachers nodded and rose, silently leaving the hall, united by their contempt for Lockhart and a desire to prevent another tragedy from occurring. Things may have been too late for Ginny Weasley, but by Merlin's beard they weren't letting Slytherin's Monster sink it's fangs into anyone else.

'Which doesn't do Frau Weasley any good." Herwald muttered, scowling as he watched them leave, slipping out of the staffroom just before McGonagall, the last one out, could lock him in, the Transfiguration Mistress promptly turning on her heel and stalking up the corridor towards Gryffindor tower 'Schiesse, if you want something done right…'

It was abundantly clear that the staff didn't have a clue as to where the chamber was. Oh they knew it EXISTED if Dumbledore's comment during Collin's petrification was any sign, but if they had the slightest knowledge of where to look, they'd have cordoned off the corridor outside Myrtle's bathroom…or at the very least ordered Filch to steer clear of it, lest HE become a victim.

'I could certainly see the Heir targeting a Squib.' Herwald noted coldly 'Especially a bitter old bastard like Filch, there isn't a student in the castle that doesn't wish that sadist harm.'

It stood to reason that the Heir was a student, the only new member of Staff was Lockhart, and the idea of the man being behind the attacks was so ludicrous Herwald didn't even bother to scoff at it. As such, the only possible explanations he could come up with was that the Heir was a Student, either from this year's Graduating Class, or from amongst this year's crop of First Years.

'The former would be the more logical…' he muttered, emerald eyes like flints as he recalled Montague's comment from the first attack 'They could have laid low, biding their time, only to launch the attacks during their final year before slipping away.'

The opposite, that it was a first year, was less likely, though at the same time highly plausible. After all, who would suspect a First Year student to be able to command a monster that one of the Founders had sequestered within the hallowed walls of the school? It was the perfect alibi, something that appealed to Herwald's Slytherin senses.

'It would also explain why they chose to kidnap Ginny.' He noted, features grim as the pieces began putting themselves together 'The first years are a tightly knit lot, it would've been easier to convince her to follow them than it would an older student.'

Of course, this bore the question of not only how the heir had uncovered the Chamber, not to mention how they'd managed to open it. Herwald suspected Parseltongue was a factor, but seeing as he'd had little chance to practice, he didn't feel confident in attempting to use it on the tap.

That just left Riddle's diary. While a long shot, the former Slytherin probably uncovered the Chamber's True location either before or after Hagrid's expulsion, and had thus jotted it down. Herwald wasn't about to trust the damn thing, but it was the only reason he could think of that the heir would go to any lengths to retrieve it after finding it in his possession after their failed attempt to destroy it.

'No time for regrets now…' he muttered, scowling as he came to a stop outside the Girl's bathroom, dropping the Potter Ring's invisibility charm as he stepped inside, ignoring the sobs of Myrtle as he walked straight past the cubicles to stand before the sink, pointing the Ring of Kay at the offending tap with a scowl "Offen."

For a moment, the only sound in the bathroom was Myrtle's sobs, the sink sitting before him, defiantly normal in appearance. Just as Herwald was beginning to feel very silly however, the sound of moving tiles cut through the air, the Einzbern, not wanting to be hit by a fountain of waste water like before, stepping sharply to the side, his emerald eyes widening in amazement as the sink began to move, ironically sinking down into the ground and out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

'Or for a Basilisk to slither out of…' the teen muttered, a slight shiver racing down his spine at the image, wondering if the serpent was waiting for him at the bottom of the tunnel.

"What's going on out there?" Myrtle called out, the ghost sounding annoyed as she peered out of her cubicle, blinking at the sight of Herwald "Oh, it's you…" she began, only to blink at the sight of the tunnel where the sink used to be "What's that?"

"That, Frau Myrtle, is how the monster killed you Fifty Years ago." Herwald revealed, ignoring the look of surprise on the ghost's face as he walked over to one of the mirrors on the wall "Tell me, has anyone come in or out of this bathroom recently?"

"I don't know." Myrtle countered, still staring mystified at the massive hole which had been part of her haunting grounds without her knowledge "No…wait," she murmured, frowning in thought "There was a girl I think, I wasn't really paying attention but she seemed to be talking to herself."

"What did she say?" Herwald demanded, only half listening as he grabbed the mirror with his left hand, a flash of alchemical lighting preceding the mirror's transmutation into smaller, easier to carry version.

"I don't really know." Myrtle countered, looking surprised at the display was hiding in the U-bend, I think a girl came in here earlier "She was speaking in some foreign language, I couldn't understand a word of it." She tilted her head to the side "Though it sounded like she was hissing and spitting a lot."

'Parseltongue?' Herwald wondered, ticking off a note on his mental checklist, though he'd wait to pass judgement until he'd actually seen the language in action "Was there anyone else with her?"

"I don't think so." Myrtle countered, frowning as she pursed her lips in thought "At least I didn't hear anyone else. So few people use this bathroom that I really don't pay attention to what they're doing unless they try to use my stall."

"I see." Herwald muttered, cursing softly under his breath at the ghost's inattentiveness, though he supposed he really couldn't blame her. Fixated ghosts, like Myrtle, tended to only be concerned with their own affairs, usually the ones which lead to their deaths, the affairs of the living, on the other hand, weren't a primary concern for them "Could you do me a favour, Frau Myrtle?" he asked, picking up the mirror and stepping closer to the rim of the tube "I need you to contact Potion's Master Snape…any of the Hogwarts Faculty really, tell them I've found the chamber and am going in to retrieve Frau Weasley."

Myrtle opened her mouth to reply, but Herwald had already leapt into the tunnel, the Einzbern grimacing as he felt the dank, slimy air of the tunnel wrap around him, like a damp, greasy cloth.

* * *

><p><em>Salazar's-Super-Fun-Happy-Slide!<em>

'It's connected to the plumbing system…' he told himself, clutching the mirror tightly as he continued to descend deep into the bowels of the castle 'Stands to reason it'd stink like a sewer.'

Reinforcing his eyes, though keeping care not to open them fully, the Einzbern noticed several other pipes connected to the one he was sliding down, branching off in all directions, no doubt leading to other areas of the castle. None of them were as large as the main one, true, but they were all still large enough for a human being, at the very least a human pre-teen, to fit through unmolested.

'These tunnels must run throughout the entire castle…' he muttered, mentally tracking their descent, noting with wonder that, judging by the speed of their descent and the time it had taken, he had to be well beneath the dungeons by now 'And all of this was created centuries ago?'

He'd known from the beginning that the Hogwarts Founders had been amongst the greatest of their generation, the wards they'd set up to protect the location of the school were considered the finest in the British Isles, even amongst the Magus Association, as it not only made the place inaccessible to Mundanes, it made the DESIRE to approach it vanish.

However, for a castle that had been erected during the time of Knights and Wizardry, Hogwarts was proving to be a marvel of engineering that by all rights should have been impossible considering the resources of the time. These tunnels alone must have been in existence since before Salazar Slytherin's exile, and yet they bore a complexity and ingenuity that rivalled any modern network. For him to have implemented such a project right under the other Founder's noses was quite a feat, adding credit to the claim that Slytherin was the house for the cunning and ambitious.

'Though one would think we would have grown out of the racist and purist stage by now.' Herwald muttered, scowling as he recalled some of the comments the elder Serpents would make in passing whenever in the presence of half-bloods and Muggleborns. It didn't help that the main troublemakers were all 'Noble Purebloods' that could trace their ancestry back as far as ten generations, meaning they enough political and financial clout to make life difficult for anyone that disagreed with them.

'In short, whoever the hell the heir is, they're either an indoctrinated aristocrat or a purist extremist with delusions of grandeur.' Herwald muttered, emerald eyes narrowing as he fell ever deeper, bracing himself as the pipe levelled out, curling into a ball to protect the mirror as he shot out of the end with a wet thud, rolling clear of the opening, his left hand slapping out at the damp floor, ready to transmute a shield to protect himself, even as he used the mirror to check his surroundings.

He was kneeling in a dark stone tunnel, about the size of a classroom, the walls lined with slime, the same slime that was coating his robes and hair from the tunnel. "Wunderbarr…" he muttered, his voice echoing through the black tunnel, getting to his feet with a grimace as he tried to get the worst of the gunk off him "Must be under the lake…the castle itself is built on bedrock to prevent an underground assault, so all this damp has to be the result of moisture seeping through…"

Reinforcing his eyes, he peered, carefully, into the gloom, making sure to keep his gaze limited to the floor, as the last thing he needed was to accidentally look Slytherin's Monster in the eye. He'd had quite enough near-death experiences to last him a lifetime as it was, and this sounded like the type you couldn't come back from.

However, even to his reinforced eyes, the tunnel before him was so dark he could only see a few feet ahead of him, which suited him perfectly, as the less he could see, the less likely he'd be to accidentally look the King of Serpents in the eye, though not for the first time the adopted Einzbern wished Assassin were still around, being a Servant. She might have lacked the magical resistance that was inherent to the three Knight Classes, but at the very least it would've been nice to have some experienced backup for a change.

'All I've got is the ghost of a depressed schoolgirl who may just as easily have gone off to alert the faculty as she is to have gone back to crying in a toilet' he muttered, unable to help the self-mocking quirk of his lips as he inched slowly into the darkened tunnel 'Scheiße, when did life get so complicated?'

A sudden crunch from beneath his feet bid him pause, the Einzbern glancing down sharply, only to exhale in relief as he realized he'd simply stepped on the skull of a rat, a long dead one judging by how easily the bone had been crushed underfoot and the sheer multitude of bones littering the ground.

'Rin DID say they'd eat anything they could get their teeth into…' he muttered, eyeing the sheer multitude of vermin skeletons warily 'I suppose with the absence of spiders, it turned its attention to the next best thing…'

He trailed off as he spotted something out the corner of his eye, something large curving around the corner of the tunnel, not moving but all the more intimidating despite that.

'Judging by the lack of light, I'm guessing it's the tail…' he muttered, stepping closer subtly, his eyes narrowing as he took in the vivid, poisonous green scales, noting with interest that they were lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. 'Judging by the size, the creature that had shed this must have been twenty feet long at least.' He noted, reaching out and touching the skin, his inner scholar unable to help marvelling at the texture 'Still fairly soft, it must have shed this recently…a day or two at most.'

"You can come out now." He called out, his voice soft, only to sigh as nothing happened, his breath rising into the darkened tunnel like mist "Look, I don't mind if you don't wish to talk, but could you at least stop hovering over my shoulder? It's getting rather uncomfortable."

For a moment nothing happened, save that the cold, ominous presence of the tunnel seemed to become even more so. Then a figure slowly faded into view, dressed in battle-worn armour, the silvery light emanating from her spectral body providing a faint light in the otherwise endless darkness of the tunnels "How did you know?"

"I know you've been following me since I left the staffroom." Herwald replied, not pausing in his examination of the shed skin "The castle isn't THAT cold during the summer months, yet I was able to see my breath in the hallways."

"Why didn't you ask me to show myself then?" the spectral knight asked, her silvery eyes unreadable, though Herwald thought he detected a hint of petulance, like a child caught doing something they shouldn't, in her tone.

"Would you have appeared if I had?" Herwald asked, his tone coy as he ran his hands over the skin of the beast, marvelling at its texture "I know you've been following me around, I suspected as much when I caught you spying on me with Hagrid the day Cedric and Sir Nicholas were attacked."

"I was NOT spying!" the knight proclaimed, looking incensed at the very idea, only to pointedly avert her eyes as Herwald turned to look at her "I was merely…curious…"

"I dare say you would be after my little incident at Sir Nicholas' party." Herwald conceded, turning to face the ghost properly, his features calm "Still, why did you not come before me earlier? Why resort to following me from a distance?"

"I…could not." The Knight revealed, looking uncomfortable as she avoided looking at the Einzbern's eyes "I wished nothing more than to speak with you, to learn how you came upon…that name…"

"Arturia's?" Herwald noted, the knight flinching at the mention of Sabre's true name "My apologies, I understand it must be a tender subject for you."

"It is not that…" the knight countered, recovering her composure somewhat "I loved my King…love her still…but I do not deserve to speak her name…nay, I cannot bear to let it cross my lips…for t'was MY hand that struck her down, my hand that led to her ruin."

"You're Mordred." Herwald noted, his emerald eyes narrowing in confirmation as he continued to take in the Knight's features "Arturia's...child, with Morgan la Fey."

"DO NOT SPEAK THAT WITCH'S NAME!" the Knight, Mordred, snarled, her features becoming terrible and monstrous as the light emanating from her increased, a wind picking up from around her body, blowing Herwald's robes back as the Einzbern braced himself "SHE IS NO MOTHER OF MINE!"

Herwald said nothing, simply weathered the storm of spectral rage, his emerald eyes staring impassively into the silvery pair of the Knight, who broke contact first, her features lined with shame as the wind died down. "My...Apologies…" she offered, her tone subdued "Even after all these years, I cannot bear to speak of that…woman…"

"I don't blame you." Herwald assured her, dusting down his robes "You never asked to be born, you never asked to be her puppet." He looked the ghost of Mordred in the eye "All you wanted was your sire's acknowledgement, but Arturia could not give it to you."

Mordred flinched, her eyes widening, staring at the Einzbern youth in wonderment "How…" he spoke, his voice a mere whisper "How is it you know these things…how is it you bear Sir Kay's ring? How is it you know my father's greatest secret?"

"I have met with Arturia Pendragon." Herwald replied, holding his hand to silence the ghost when his eyes widened in surprise "It is a long, complicated story, and one I am more than willing to recount later, but right now I have no time, the master of the monster that lurks within these halls has taken a young girl into its den."

"Then let us make haste." Mordred intoned, the ghost's features firming in resolve as her hand rested upon the pommel of her sword "I would hear more of your tale, so I shall accompany you…though I fear I will not be much help should we encounter the monster."

"Take out the master and there shouldn't be much problem." Herwald opined, earning a look from the fallen knight "The beast is under the command of a Parseltongue, if we can kill the Schwein-Hund before he can summon his pet, then we shouldn't have a problem."

Mordred eyed the youth in silence for the moment, and Herwald swore the fallen Knight was evaluating him from behind those silvery eyes. "You are very perceptive." She noted at last, her voice laced with soft approval "Such a tactic would be befitting of Sir Kay."

"I guess it runs in the family." Herwald noted, smiling cryptically at the flash of understanding in Mordred's eyes even as they moved onwards, the light coming off the knight's body making it easier to traverse the winding tunnels, the two never speaking, only the sounds of dripping water and Herwald's footsteps surrounding them as they made their way deeper into the monster's den.

* * *

><p>And so the two meet at last.<p>

Also, yes, Mordred is a Girl, check the wiki, look up Saber of Red. She's basically what would happen if Arturia cosplayed as Revy from Black Lagoon apparently.

Sir: Hoh-Hoh-HOH!

Kyugan: She's also got an 'issue' with being seen as a woman, so I wouldn't try anything.


	17. Chapter 17: The Heir of Slytherin

Kyugan: God almighty this one's been a long time coming hasn't it?

Spy: To be fair, we've been a bit busy of late.

Scout: Tell me about it (Kicking a robo-scout's head like a ball in the air) damn tin-can's are relentless.

Heavy: Metal men are no threat to team!

Kyugan: I'd be thanking Dell for that, Lord knows what it'd be like without his sentries taking up the flak.

Engineer: Ah heck, t'weren't nothin' pardner.

Spy: I, and my thankfully oil-free suit, say otherwise, labourer.

Kyugan: Yeah man, you rock. Now then, the Wheel of Fate is turning...Let's see what the latests Continuum Shift has wrought.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 17: The Heir of Slytherin.<span>

Even with Mordred lighting the way, the journey through the caverns was not a pleasant one, the two passing the trip in grim.

It had nothing to do with the company, if anything Herwald was relieved to have Mordred with him, for one thing it meant he didn't have to waste Od reinforcing his eyes, as the light coming off the ghostly knight was more than enough to light the way, though part of him WAS concerned that it made it easier for whoever was ahead of them to see them coming.

It was a plausible concern, after all, the Basilisk had already revealed that its stare could work on ghosts just as easily as men. While Sir Nicholas' fate was not nearly so permanent as the one that had befallen Moaning Myrtle, neither Herwald nor Mordred wished to experience it for themselves.

And so they travelled in silence, Mordred slightly to the fore, as at the very least, if the Basilisk WAS lurking ahead, she would see it first, thus giving Herwald a chance to defend himself. It wasn't as if the King of Serpents could EAT the Ghost Knight, after all.

Just when Herwald was beginning to wonder if they'd taken a wrong turn, it wouldn't have surprised him if Slytherin had devised a maze to hide his chamber from explorers that stumbled across the entrance, they turned a corner to find themselves standing before what he at first assumed was a wall, which upon closer inspection bore two entwined serpents carved upon its surface, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

"There is strong magic here…" Mordred muttered, her features grim as she glared at the serpents, as if their mere presence offended her in some way "OLD magic, I would say as old as the wards of this castle."

"This is it then." Herwald deduced, the alchemist taking a breath to steady himself, before stepping forward, his eyes locked on the snakes, shivering as their emerald eyes seemed to look back at him, as if they were more than mere carvings set with jewels. _"Open._" He ordered, not with the Ring of Kay, nor was it in German, the words instead exiting is mouth as a stream of incomprehensible hisses that drew a quirked brow from Mordred.

Before the fallen Knight could comment, however, the serpents hissed in reply, the pair looking on as the wall cracked open, the halves sliding smoothly out of sight as the two unlikely comrades stepped forward to find themselves standing at the end of a long chamber, dimly lit by emerald flames. Towering stone pillars, entwined with more carved serpents, rose to support a ceiling that rose beyond the light of the flames, casting long, black, serpentine shadows throughout the chamber.

The air was still and heavy with the dust of ages, but even so, Herwald could FEEL the magic radiating throughout the walls. It was old, ancient even, and powerful, dear lord it was powerful, and even as he felt it wash over him, he knew instinctively what he'd found.

"Gott im Himmel…" he breathed, the adopted Einzbern rendered all but mute by the sheer overwhelming feeling of power and wonderment that was washing over him like a rising tide "I had my suspicions…but I never dreamed…"

"What is it?" Mordred enquired, the spectral knight turning to regard her young ally, the look of guarded concern in her eyes a carbon copy for the look her sire had sent may a time towards Shirou as Herwald took another hesitant step into the chamber "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? Wrong?" Herwald repeated, looking at the Knight as if she were mad, his wits recovering somewhat at her concern "Mordred, this isn't just some chamber Slytherin built to spite the other founders." he breathed, gesturing towards the chamber walls in excitement "This is Slytherin's WORKSHOP."

A workshop was the magical laboratory of a Magus, the place where they would retire to perform their research and experiments. It was, essentially, the place where all advances in magical research were carried out, the home of countless successes and failures, where miracles could quickly lead to catastrophe, and where dreams could be made and shattered.

Any self-respecting Magus had a workshop, an experienced Magus had more than one, Nicholas and Perenelle, for example, had created the Philosopher's stone at their old home at 51 Rue de Montmorency in Paris, but had dismantled the workshop when they'd been forced to flee to protect their research.

Even Shirou, as inept as he'd been prior to the Grail War, had used his father's old shed as a workshop in order to train himself in Kiritsugu's bastardised teachings. Since coming under Rin's tuition however, the Tohsaka heir had given him permission to use her own workshop, another thing she'd inherited from her father, an act that held more meaning to a Magus than it appeared, more intimate than if she'd invited the redhead to join her in bed, as redundant as such an invitation may be given their current relationship.

That being said, it went without saying that the act of stepping into the workshop of a Magus without their express permission was considered the epitome of rudeness, worse than any other act of outright hostility. Even if the Magus had been long since dead, as Salazar Slytherin undoubtedly was, touch wood, entering their workshop without permission was a crime many a Magus had lost their life for.

Such was the case now, for even as Herwald lost himself in admiring the structure of the chamber, he could not help but feel as if he was being watched, as if countless accusing eyes were glaring at him, affronted by his very presence in this most hallowed of grounds.

"We should tread carefully…" Mordred opined, the fallen knight's features hardening, her entire demeanour changing at the revelation of where they now stood, eyeing the serpentine columns warily, half expecting to spot the Basilisk lurking behind them, waiting to strike "If this is indeed the workshop of a Magus, then it is likely filled with traps."

"Speaking from experience?" Herwald enquired, snapping out of his awestruck state at the Knights words, kicking himself for losing control so easily. Even if this WAS the academic find of the century, that didn't mean he wasn't in any less danger. If anything, he was in even MORE danger than before, for a Magus as old and powerful as Salazar Slytherin wouldn't have left his chamber guarded solely by a Basilisk.

"Morgan…that Witch," Mordred corrected, grimacing at her mother's name "Had several such protections around her own workshop." her eye twitched at some uncomfortable memory "Part of my training prior to knighthood involved surpassing them without setting them off."

"That can't have been fun." Herwald muttered, grimacing at the idea. After all, legends spoke of Morgan's cruelty and treachery against Arturia, how she'd stolen Excalibur's sheathe, making the King of Knight's vulnerable to injury, and how she'd played the Knights of the Round against one another, all to put her own son on the throne. Given that, it didn't take a genius to deduce her idea of 'tutelage' wouldn't have been gentle.

"It was not." Mordred muttered, her features grim as she continued to eye the walls, armoured hands gripping the pommel of her sword "However, it has given me a good understanding of what to expect from Magi of her Calibre. Rest assured, I shall allow no harm befall you."

Herwald said nothing, merely inclining his hand in thanks, his wand slipping into his right hand even as he clenched the fingers of his left. Against a magical creature like the basilisk, he doubted destruction Alchemy would do much good. Unlike a troll, which while magical possessed no natural armour, the basilisk, like a dragon, was covered in thick, magically resistant scales. Even the shed skin he'd examined in the tunnels retained its ability, it was no wonder that potion's masters sought the stuff so passionately. Ingredients aside, they made some of the best gloves aside from Dragon-Hide.

'My best bet would be to blind it and then use Alchemy to trap it.' He muttered, taking in the terrain, trying to predict how the course of the battle would go. It wasn't looking very good, in his honest opinion, for while a Basilisk wasn't on the same level as a Dragon, or even a Servant, they were still dangerous enough that any sane Magus knew to avoid them like a sealing designation.

As they advanced further into the chamber, Mordred's eyes tracking the walls for hidden runes and false pave-stones, they took notice of a statue at the end of the chamber, a massive monolith as high as the Chamber itself, Herwald actually having to reinforce his eyes against the dim light to peer up at its face, which was ancient, reminiscent of a monkey's, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the carved stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood bare on the smooth Chamber floor.

"Salazar Slytherin…" he muttered, and for a moment, the air in the chamber seemed to grow all the more oppressive, only for his attention to turn to a small, black-robed figure lying face down at the statues feet, a figure with flaming-red hair "Frau Weasley!" He exclaimed, letting out a curse as he sprinted towards her, Mordred at his side, the fallen knight taking up a guard position over the pair as Herwald dropped to his knees beside Ron's Sister, picking her up in his arms and turning her over, revealing a face as white as marble and as cold to the touch.

"Scheiße…" He swore, pressing his fingers to the girl's neck, fighting the urge to flinch at the feel of her cold, clammy skin, only to sigh in relief as he felt a faint pulse "She's alive." He muttered, more to himself than for Morded's benefit "Barely, it's weak but she still has a pulse."

"Has she been bitten?" Mordred asked, the Knight's features hard as she glanced down at the small, fragile form of the redhead, clearly angered at her suffering even as Herwald checked the girl for bite marks, only to turn up nothing "Then it is some other, magical ailment that afflicts her."

"You are correct, Lady Knight." A soft voice agreed, the pair whipping round, Herwald placing Ginny behind him, Mordred's blade drawn in a flash of silver as they turned to face the sound of the voice, eyes narrowing as they spotted someone leaning against a pillar nearby, where no-one had been before "Hello again, Herwald von Einzbern…or should I call you Harry Potter?"

* * *

><p><em>At the feet of Salazar... <em>

Herwald grimaced, not at being caught off guard, though that played a factor, but rather at the use of his birth name, as no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't get used to it. After all, if Dobby's speech was any indication, then 'Harry Potter' was the Wizarding World's 'Hero', the 'Chosen One', and as History was wont to prove, 'Chosen Ones' tended to have a lot of shit heaved on their plate.

So it was understandable that he'd want to distance himself from that life, so far as he was concerned, the only things he had in common with Harry Potter was the scar on his head and their mother's eyes, and even THAT was a stretch, as he'd always considered Irisviel to be his mother in spirit, if not in blood.

Fighting down his irritation, he turned his attention to the figure leaning against the wall. He was tall, but not a man grown, as was apparent from the Green Slytherin uniform he wore beneath his school robes. There was no mistaking those features, Herwald had only seen them once, but even in the dim light, and despite the fact they seemed blurred around the edges, there was no mistaking that face.

"Hello Tom." He greeted, his tone genial, though he maintained his grip on his wand nonetheless, his emerald eyes never leaving the apparition's "I must say you've certainly aged well."

It was a question just as much as a compliment, and justly so, for despite the fact that Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, the figure before them couldn't have been older than sixteen at the offset, even if his handsome features made him appear older.

"Who are you?" Mordred demanded, scowling at the youth accusingly "Or rather, WHAT are you?" she corrected, which Herwald felt was a more accurate question, for the being before them certainly wasn't a ghost, the colouration and the fact he was standing on the floor were proof of this alone, not to mention the fact he appeared to be casting a shadow.

"A memory." Riddle replied, his voice soft, echoing quietly in the otherwise silent chamber, his eyes never leaving Herwald's as he spoke, a strange sort of HUNGER emanating from them "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he followed the gesture to see Riddle's diary lying open at Slytherin's stone feet. "Tom." the adopted Einzbern muttered, his voice soft, like the sound of a dagger drawn from a silken sheath as he glanced away from the deceptively innocent looking paperback "Was there anyone else with Ginny when she came down here?"

"Perhaps…" Riddle consented, a small smile curling the corners of the apparition's mouth as he continued to stare at the Einzbern like a cat, his eyes dancing with dark amusement that made Herwald's fists itch.

"Answer the question boy!" Mordred demanded, the knight scowling at the self-proclaimed 'memory', clearly not appreciating being ignored "This is no time for games, there is a monstrous serpent on the loose and at any moment-!"

"It won't come until it is called." Riddle cut in calmly, his eyes never leaving Herwald's even as the Einzbern's narrowed "I must say it's nice to speak with you again Harry. It rather hurt when you stopped writing." His smile broadened "I'd been looking forward to it for so long after all, and now we've all the time in the world."

"How did Ginny get like this?" Herwald demanded, his eyes never leaving Riddle's as he positioned himself so that Ginny was directly behind him, and thus less likely to be targeted should anything attack him from the fore or sides.

"Really now Harry," Riddle chuckled, his voice coy "our first chat in ages and you want to talk about girls?" he shook his head when Herwald refused to rise to his baiting "Oh well, I suppose it's an understandable question, I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"You, in other words." Herwald countered, his eyes hard as he continued to eye the memory from behind Mordred, the Knight's features unreadable "She was the one who tried to flush you, wasn't she?"

"Very good, Harry." Riddle applauded, looking pleased of all things "Yes indeed, little Ginny's been writing in my diary for months now, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes." His lips curled in a mocking sneer "How her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second hand robes and books." His eyes glanced back to Herwald, who fought the urge to shiver at the almost hungry expression in them. "How she didn't think the famous, good looking, great Harry Potter would ever like her..."

"Sounds like a typical girl's diary to me." Herwald noted offhandedly, though internally he was cursing his fame , or rather, the whole 'Boy Who Lived' thing and the idiots behind it in every language he knew "I never took you to be a voyeur, Tom. Don't you know a woman's secrets are not to be told so flippantly?"

"Please." Riddle scoffed, looking disgusted, "Do you have any idea how boring it was? Having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl?" he shook his head and continued "But I was patient, I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me." He put on a false voice "No one's ever understood me like you, Tom…I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in…It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…"

"ENOUGH!" Mordred snarled, the ghost's face lined with anger as she pointed her silvery sword at the memory's face, even as Riddle broke out into mocking laughter, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit his handsome features one bit "What have you done to her?"

"Nothing at all, Lady Knight." Riddle replied mockingly, his tone as condescending as the look he sent her way "I was merely my usual, charming self, and so Ginny poured out her soul to me…" and here his smile grew terrible, twisting his features into something more appropriate for that awful laugh "And indeed, her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley, powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"

"Possession, you mean…" Herwald muttered, his lips pursed in a scowl as he regarded the memory before him coldly "No…more like a combination of Transference of Consciousness and Mental Interference."

Transference of Consciousness was the art of transmitting one's consciousness into another object, usually a familiar, in order to acquire information from a different perspective whilst controlling them at distance. It was a Magecraft that the Einzbern were particularly proficient with, enough so that Illyasviel had once played a prank on him by placing his consciousness into one of her dolls.

However, the downside of this Magecraft is that if the target was already in possession of a soul and personality, the control of the target's body would remain theirs, not to mention the fact that if the Magus' own body was disturbed the spell would immediately cancel, a safety precaution, as no matter how complete the transference was, once the body of the Magus died their consciousness would fade away with it.

Mental Interference, on the other hand, was Magecraft specifically designed to have an effect on the target's mind. A prime Example was the Imperious Curse, one of the Unforgivable three, which would subvert the target's will to the caster's. Lesser, but by no means less effective examples would be the Memory Erasing 'Obliterate' or the Mind-Reading 'Legilimens' spells.

"As expected of someone raised by the Einzbern family." Riddle applauded, smiling in sinister approval "Indeed, it took very little effort at all, once she'd let me into her heart. After that, it was simply a matter of coaching her along."

"What do you mean?" Mordred demanded, the knight's grip on her sword tightening to the point Herwald would've expected it to make a noise had the blade been corporeal even as he spoke up.

"It was you, wasn't it." He deduced, his tone accusing as he glared at the memory of his Slytherin predecessor "You're the heir of Slytherin from fifty years ago." His eyes hardened "You framed Hagrid to cover your tracks."

"As expected of a fellow Slytherin," Riddle applauded, looking pleased at the Einzbern's deductions "Truly, great minds think alike. Indeed, the great oaf made a most perfect patsy for my plans, what with his bringing an Acromantula into the castle." He scowled at the memory of the beast's escape "I'll admit it would've been better to catch the beast itself, but in hindsight letting it escape proved a boon, as I could work in Hagrid's defence of the thing into my accusations."

"Not to mention the fact that had they caught the Acromantula, they could have dismissed your accusations as false?" Herwald pointed out, earning a sharp look from the memory "Acromantula do not paralyse their prey with their vision, they use their venom, which leaves a distinctive mark which your victims lacked."

"Slytherin truly is the house of the cunning." Riddle marvelled, a mocking smile on his lips as he shook his head "Still, not that it mattered really, after all, it was Hagrid's word against mine, and as you can imagine, that didn't turn out very well for him at all." He held up a hand, palm up "Imagine how it must appeared to Armando Dippet: On the one hand, Tom Marvolo Riddle, poor but brilliant, parent-less but so brave, school prefect, model student." He held up the other hand "On the other, big, blundering Hagrid. In trouble every other week, caught trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls..."

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><p><em>As Riddle Rants... <em>

Herwald said nothing, though internally he was rolling his eyes, as that sounded EXACTLY like something Hagrid would do. It seemed getting expelled hadn't done anything to curb the Groundskeeper's love of all things dangerous, if anything he'd grown MORE daring, if last year's attempt to raise a Dragon in his wooden hut was any indication.

"I'll admit even I was surprised how well the plan worked." Riddle continued, apparently in love with the sound of his own brilliance "I thought someone would realize Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin." He sneered "After all, it took me five whole years of dedicated research to uncover everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets, never mind the time it took to discover the secret entrance." he shook his head with a laugh "As if Hagrid had the brains to do such a thing, or the power!"

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent." he muttered, his good humour vanishing at the mention of the Supreme Mugwump "He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper." he shook his head with a sigh of annoyance, his look of annoyance souring further with each word "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, he never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did…he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled, so I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school."

"So that's when you decided to put your soul into the diary?" Herwald asked, earning a sharp look from Riddle "Oh don't look at me like that Tom, if I were you, and I stumbled across Slytherin's Chamber, I certainly wouldn't be content to sit back on my laurels wasting my time."

"Indeed." Riddle agreed, a hint of approval in his tone as he picked up speed again "You're quite right, Harry, I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. And so I preserved my sixteen-year-old self within the pages of my diary, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"There never was another 'Heir of Slytherin'." Herwald proclaimed, his voice cold and to the point, his eyes glinting like living emeralds "You used Ginny as a medium."

"Used?" Riddle repeated, scoffing curtly, his eyes glinting with dark humour "Hardly, it was Ginny Weasley who opened the Chamber of Secrets, it was Ginny who strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls in their blood. It was Ginny who set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods and the Squib's cat."

His smile grew mocking, and Herwald had to suppress a shiver at how close the expression came to mirroring that of the late Kotomine Kirei, the depraved Priest and former Overseer of the 5th Grail War, who had only been able to feel joy at the expense of the suffering of others, whose sole purpose for over ten years was to bring Angra Mainyu into the world, prepared to let the world burn simply to answer whatever questions tormented his twisted soul.

"Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first." Riddle continued, his words banishing Kirei's image from Herwald's sight "It was very amusing, I wish you could have seen her new diary entries… how far more interesting, they became."

"Dear Tom," he recited, putting on the mocking fake voice again "I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there." he sneered as Mordred's grip on her sword began to tremble "Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me…There was another attack today and I don't know where I was." he began to chuckle as the knight bared her teeth "Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad… I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!'"

"FIEND!" Mordred snarled, the knight lunging forwards, spectral blade swinging round as if to cleave Riddle's head from his shoulders, only to pass harmlessly through, the elder Slytherin's features set in a mocking sneer as the fallen knight seethed at him in anger.

"That won't do any good." Riddle taunted "A ghost's weapon cannot harm the flesh of the living, and thanks to the amount of magic I've been draining from the girl, I'll soon be able to take on a corporeal form."

"You monster…!" Mordred hissed, her resemblance to Arturia all the more evident as she bared her teeth at the memory, Herwald shivering as, for a fleeting moment, the image of a roaring dragon crossed his vision, only to be replaced with Mordred once more, the fallen knight shaking her blade at Riddle's face, for all the good it would do "Mark my words parasite, by by father's name I shall see you pay for this!"

"Oh do shut up woman." Riddle scoffed, dismissing the Knight, with nary a thought, ignoring her look of outrage as he turned his full attention back to Herwald, who schooled his features into a mask of calm "Still, I suppose I should give the girl SOME credit." he admitted, glancing at Ginny's form with a hint of disdain "She finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of the diary, only for YOU to stumble across it by chance." He smiled hungrily "And I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet…"

"Sorry, but I'm afraid any rumours about me handing out signed photographs are untrue." Herwald quipped, smirking to himself as both Riddle and Mordred blinked at him in confusion, though in Mordred's case it was probably more to do with not knowing what a photograph was "And while I'll admit I find your persistence flattering, I'm afraid I simply don't swing that way."

"What the devil are you talking about?" Riddle demanded, scowling at the youth, his features torn between confusion and annoyance even as Mordred's eyes narrowed, wondering what her ally was getting at.

"Look, Tom, I understand where you're coming from." Herwald quipped, putting on his best 'understanding' expression as he spoke "You were stuck in that book for over fifty years, all alone, no-one to talk to, then along comes Ginny with her tales of wonder and excitement and political propaganda, so you decided to reach out and test the waters…"

"THAT'S NOT IT!" Riddle snapped, his features laced with anger and revulsion, and a fair hint of embarrassment if his atomic blush was any indication, the memory glaring over his shoulder at Mordred, who had thrown her head back with a whoop of laughter at Herwald's trick "SHUT YOUR MOUTH WOMAN!"

"Now, now. No need to feel ashamed, Tom." Herwald assured the memory suppressing the urge to snicker with all his might, Mordred showing no such restraint and was nearly doubled over with laughter "After all, it can have been much fun, being all alone, nothing but memories to keep you company, you probably just wanted someone to connect to…"

"Shut up!" Riddle snarled, racing forwards, his hands outstretched as if to throttle the smaller teen, only to choke as Herwald's foot caught him in the stomach, the memory doubling over, allowing Herwald to grab the elder boy by his collar and hurl him over his shoulder in a perfect Judo throw, the elder Slytherin landing hard on his back.

"That's the problem with a corporeal body." Herwald opined, the Einzbern kneeing on Riddle's chest, his wand aimed right at the winded memory's face "Pain comes as part of the package." He scowled at the elder Slytherin "Now then, why don't you tell me how to reverse the effect?"

"You can't." Riddle countered, his scowl of anger shifting into a mocking sneer as he stared up at the younger Slytherin "So long as the Diary exists, my soul will continue to feed on hers, and so long as my soul exists within the pages, it cannot be destroyed." He sneered at the younger bow "What will you do now, Harry Potter?"

"You seem to think we're at an impasse." Herwald noted, tightening his grip on Riddle's neck, which was satisfyingly corporeal, as the elder boy's discomforted expression made all too clear "And in a sense, you're right, because if the girl dies, then you die, horribly and slowly." He smirked, "However, even if your soul returns to the diary afterwards, you'll have no means of protecting yourself, and while my alchemy might not be able to destroy it, I can guarantee Professor Dumbledore will know a few tricks."

"You think I fear Dumbledore?" Riddle hissed, though Herwald was pleased to see a flash of panic in the memory's eyes at the man's name "That doddering old lemon sucker's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!"

"He's due back any day now." Herwald countered "And before I came down here, I gave instructions for Myrtle, the ghost of the girl you killed, to alert the rest of the staff as to the location of the Chamber." He smirked at the look of shock on the elder teen's face "I imagine Hagrid's gotten some new roosters in by now, if not, I dare say they can conjure a few up on the spot." He smirked at the memory "The acoustics in here should ensure that, no matter where your little pet may hide, there's no chance in hell it won't hear it."

_"Speak to me!"_ Riddle hissed, literally, a string of otherwise insensible spits and hisses that sounded like something one would hear just before experiencing a sharp, stinging bite on the leg, emerging from the teen's mouth amidst a hail of spittle _"Slytherin! Greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"_

Herwald swore, punching Riddle in the throat to cut off the hissing even as he knew it was far too late, the Einzbern rolling off the choking teen to glance up at Slytherin's statue, emerald eyes narrowing as the stone mouth slowly opened, wider and wider, revealing a huge black hole from which a sound could be heard, a soft, yet ominous sound that set the hair on his body on edge.

The sound of something large slithering up from its depths, the sound of scales slithering across rock.

The Basilisk was coming.

* * *

><p>Hopefully you all got a good laugh this chapter, Lord only knows Mordred did.<p>

Heavy: DOHOHO-That slaps me on the knee!

Spy: *Nasal Snorting* Ahahahaha-!

Scout: Oh Man! He got OWNED!

Demo: DOMINATED!

Sniper: Now there's just the ruddy snake to worry about.

Kyugan: Indeed. How will Herwald handle the King of Serpents? Will Mordred be able to take out her anger on something soon?

You'll have to wait till next time to find up!

Admin: ALERT! ALERT! ANOTHER WAVE HAS BEGUN!

Soldier: DAMMIT! All Right Maggots! To your posts!

Engineer: Move-em out!

Kyugan: Hey heavy? (Tosses him a wrapped package) Got something for ya.

Heavy: Vas is das? (Heavy is unwrapping package to the sound of Zelda chest opening music) OOH!

DA-DA-DA-BZZZT!

Engineer: Spy-Bot Sappin' our Internet connection!

Heavy: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-!


	18. Chapter 18 The King of Serpents

Kyugan: Greetings All! Just to give a head's up, while I'll be finishing this Fic, The Herwald Series may undergo an overhaul in order to address several points that have been brought to my attention.

(Sound of Heavy Beating the Scrap out of Bots) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Spy: (Stunned) Good Lord! I don't know how to feel about seeing that.

Medic: Now now, let him have his fun (Grins as a wad of cash flies out of the dustcloud) Oooh! Money!

Kyugan: Sigh, glad to see you've got your priorities sorted. In the meantime, the Wheel of Fate is turning...Let's see what the latest Continuum Shift has wrought.

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><p>Chapter 18: The King of Serpents.<p>

The moment he heard the sound of the Basilisk's approach, Herwald was already moving, ordering Mordred to stay near Ginny before activating the Potter Ring's invisibility charm to cover his escape, putting as much distance between himself and the monster as he possibly could.

'Scheiße…' he swore, grimacing as the floor shuddered beneath his feet as something huge hit ground behind him. The Basilisk had to weigh several hundred tons at least, which meant it was easily well-over the twenty feet length of the shed skin.

_"Find Him!"_ Riddle hissed, though it sounded rather strained, unsurprising really, as Herwald had intended to crush his windpipe with that last blow, _"Find him, but don't kill him!"_

'That was your first mistake…' Herwald muttered, slipping stealthily around the outskirts of the chamber, keeping his head down to avoid looking the Basilisk in the eye. Any self-respecting Magus with a weapon of great power at their disposal would have used it immediately on their enemy. But Riddle was apparently the perceived Typical Slytherin, all pride and ambition but not one whit of common sense.

"You'll pay for that, Potter…" Riddle called out, his voice choked, though Herwald could still make out the venom in his tone, even over the terrible hissing of the Basilisk "Don't think I'll make it easy for you, no, I've waited a long time to get my hands on you, I intend to savour the moment."

"And just when I thought you couldn't get any creepier." Herwald called out, throwing his voice to the opposite side of the chamber, a handy little piece of misdirection, even as he fired a stunner from his wand at Riddle's back, only to curse as the Effigy whipped around and deflected it, revealing he held Ginny's wand in his hand, before launching a Reductor curse at the spot Herwald had vacated moments before "Still, I suppose it's a relief you didn't see Frau Weasley in such a light, I was actually worried for her chastity for a bit."

"Again with the senseless jokes…" Riddle hissed, though Herwald was pleased to detect a hint of annoyance in his tone "Still, I suppose it's all you can really do, your Alchemy means nothing in the face of Slytherin's Monster-!"

A wave of spikes erupted from the ground, racing towards Riddle's position, the Memory lunging out of their path with a yelp even as the Basilisk hissed at the attack on its master.

"If I can't attack the Monster, I'll aim for its Master." Herwald shot back, throwing his voice so that it echoed around the chamber, moving between the pillars like a phantom "In case you forgot Tom, I'm not as limited as you."

_"FIND HIM!"_ Tom hissed, his face purple in apoplectic fury as he lashed out with Ginny's wand, sending curse after curse into the shadows, though none even came close to hitting Herwald _"Find him! Smell him out!"_

"Snakes don't 'SMELL' their prey, Tom." Herwald pointed out in a sing-song voice, the Einzbern thoroughly enjoying himself as he cause a spike to erupt beneath the memory's feet, sending Riddle sprawling across the cavern floor "Honestly, you'd think Slytherin's heir would know such a thing!"

"Shut up!" Riddle swore, his features nowhere close to handsome anymore as he got to his feet, casting curse after curse into the shadows, some of them actually striking the Basilisk itself, though they simply bounced off its enchanted scales "I won't be talked down to by the likes of you! I don't care what those lack-wits say, there's no way a skinny little brat like you could have defeated the greatest Wizard of all time!"

"I certainly don't recall pissing off Merlin or Zelretch at any point in my life, so I'm afraid I'll have to agree with you there." Herwald opined, shivering at the idea of even CONSIDERING such a suicidal act even as he sent another wave of spikes Riddle's way.

"I'm talking about Voldemort you insufferable child!" Riddle snapped, an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes as he launched a curse at Herwald's last known position "How did you do it? How did you, a child with no exceptional talents, escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"I would hardly consider Voldemort the most powerful Wizard of all time." Herwald shot back mockingly, "Not with Zelretch still alive and kicking anyways, never mind The Barthomelois..."

"Silence!" Riddle snarled, lashing out with a wave of living fire that weaved around the pillars in the shape of a serpent, only cutting it off when it looked like it was about to strike the Basilisk "Voldemort's power surpassed theirs in every way!"

"I never would've taken you to be a fan boy, Tom." Herwald shot back, a hint of disappointment entering his tone that wasn't entirely faked, even as he switched positions once more, constantly moving to keep as much distance between him and the Basilisk "Besides, what do you care for how I defeated him? Voldemort was after your time."

"Voldemort…!" Riddle snapped, only to pause, his features softening as he regained his composure "Voldemort, Harry Potter, is my past, present, and future."

Herwald frowned, looking on in suspicion as Riddle began to trace Ginny's wand through the air, the words TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE appearing in thin air in simmering letters, like living embers. "Congratulations, you know how to spell your own name." he called out mockingly "I can see how you earned your position as prefect."

"Ever the comedian…" Riddle sneered, waving Ginny's wand once more, the letters of his name rearranging themselves in mid-air, Herwald's eyes narrowing at the new formation:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"You see?" Riddle proclaimed, his face set in a triumphant sneer as he turned to peer into the darkness, trying to spot his opponent "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course." His features shifted into a sneer of disgust "You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch?" he shook his head, his eyes peering into the darkness for any sign of the Einzbern youth "No Harry, I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world-!"

"Gott im Himmel…" Herwald swore, the Einzbern shaking his head in exasperation as he stared at the teenage persona of his 'mortal enemy' in disgust "THAT's your dramatic origin story? You're angry at the world because Daddy didn't love you?"

"SILENCE!" Riddle snarled, lashing out with Fiendfyre once again, his features set in a mask of apoplectic fury even as Herwald's mocking laughter echoed around the chamber "Stop mocking me!"

"But you make it so easy!" Herwald sniped back, erecting a barrier to block a stray gout of flame even as he sent a wave of spikes towards the memory "You think YOU had it rough? Hell there are kids the world over whose stories are WORSE and they turned out better people for it, why should I give a rats ass about yours?"

"Shut up!" Riddle snarled, "I will not be mocked by the likes of you! I'm Lord Voldemort! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! The one who will usher in a new age of Magical superiority!"

"You can start by finding a better speechwriter." Herwald sniped, casting a Levicorpus, causing Riddle's ankles to flip from under him, the enraged memory hanging upside down in mid-air as if caught in a rabbit trap, "Honestly Tom, I'm glad you're willing to talk about your abandonment issues, really, I am, I just don't feel I'm qualified to give sound psychiatric advice."

_"KILL HIM!"_ Riddle hissed, Herwald letting out a curse as he rolled to the side to avoid the King of Serpents as it barreled towards him at an amazing speed for a creature of its size, Riddle dropping to the floor with a yelp as Herwald was forced to release the spell.

"You'll pay for that, Potter…" the Memory snarled, pushing himself off the ground and glaring at the surroundings, trying to find his enemy "I'll make you suffer for your disrespect…you'll regret the day you crossed Lord Voldemort!"

"I already was." Herwald shot back, erecting a wall with Alchemy to block the Serpent's head as it came around a pillar, shielding it's eyes from view even as he cast a disarming charm, sending Ginny's wand flying out of Riddle's hand "But don't flatter yourself, the only reason I do is because people won't leave me alone because of it."

"Dammit all! Riddle snarled, all traces of his former good looks gone, an animalistic look of fury on his face as he picked himself off the ground _"KILL HIM!"_

* * *

><p><em>As Riddle Rants... <em>

'Finally getting serious I see…' Herwald muttered, the Einzbern catching his breath behind a pillar, trying to come up with a strategy even as he listened out for the Basilisk's approach 'Still…this is starting to look bad…where the Hölle are the bloody staff?'

"Herwald?" Mordred called out, the invisible Einzbern looking up to see the spectral knight looking around in confusion, silvery gauntlets gripping her sword "Are you there?"

"I'm here." Herwald whispered back, keeping his voice as low as possibly to avoid attracting the Serpent or Riddle's attention "What are you doing? I told you to guard Ginny!"

"The girl will not be harmed." Mordred assured the teen "From what I gathered from his earlier blusters, he needs her alive to complete his revival, it stands to reason that, until the ritual is complete, he will not allow her to come to harm."

"Which doesn't give us a lot of time…" Herwald muttered, his features dark beneath his invisibility "Ginny's pulse was negligible at best…I give her a few more minutes before he drains her dry…"

"Blast it all…!" Mordred cursed, the Knight glaring at one armoured silver fist, hopeless fury shining in her silver eyes "Never before have I resented my current existence more than now! To think I should stand by helpless while children do battle…"

"I'm hardly a child but I appreciate your concern." Herwald replied dryly, touched by the fallen Knight's sentiments as he caught his breath "Still, I have to admit I wouldn't be adverse to a little help right now."

As it was, Herwald had constantly been ducking between the offensive and defensive, trying to take down Riddle while simultaneously trying to keep clear of the Basilisk, a task that was proving more arduous than he would care to admit, considering the King of Serpents knew its home better than anyone, possibly even Riddle. Add to that the number of spells and transmutations he'd been forced to use in rapid succession, and it was no wonder he was so haggard.

'At this rate it'll come down to a war of attrition.' He muttered, scowling as he did so 'I could take him easily in a straight out battle…but so long as the Basilisk is in play I'm fighting a battle on two fronts…' he grimaced as he recalled Ginny 'Then there's the time limit…how long have we been down here? An hour? Two? How much longer can she hold out?'

"Mordred…" he whispered, catching the Knights attention as he spoke "I need you to go and get the Professors, I don't care who or how you do it, but we can't let Riddle get out of here."

"You think I would abandon you in such dire straits?" Mordred demand, a look of affront adorning her features as she stared at the spot where Herwald was concealed "Nay boy, t'would go against my code as a Knight to do so."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but it's not like you could do much good in this battle." Herwald countered, shaking his head at the Knight's semantics "I mean, it's not as if you could even hurt it as you are…"

He paused, his emerald eyes widening as a sudden, impossible idea took root in his mind. By all rights, it should be impossible, and even if he could pull it off, there was no guarantee it would work, but as it were, he really didn't have a lot of options.

"Herwald?" Mordred spoke up, the spectal spawn of Arturia Pendragon eyeing the spot before her in concern at the youth's sudden silence "Are you well? Is something the matter…?"

"I'm fine, Mordred…" Herwald spoke up, his tone calm "In fact, I think I may have come up with a plan, but I'll need your help to pull it off…"

* * *

><p><em>Riddle's POV... <em>

_"Find him!"_ Riddle hissed, the corporeal memory glaring at the shadows of the chamber as he watched his ancestor's monstrous familiar track their prey "You cannot hide forever Potter! Sooner or later the Basilisk will find you, and the longer you persist in this cowardly game of hide and seek, the closer your precious Ginny comes to death!"

He didn't really expect the boy-who-lived to react to that, he was a fellow Slytherin after all, and Slytherin's new better than to let emotions cloud their judgement. "I'll admit I was surprised you came to rescue her alone." He called out, his tone mocking as he smiled broadly "Charging in headfirst to meet the enemy? How very Gryffindor of you, you must get it from your parents."

"People DO say I take after them in looks." Herwald shot back, his voice echoing around the cavern, making it had to pinpoint his location "I'm afraid that's where the resemblance ends though. But then you'd probably know all about that."

"You could say that…" Riddle admitted, a flash of some dark emotion appearing in his eyes that quickly vanished "In fact, I dare say even you must have noticed that there is a strange likeness between us. Both half-bloods, orphans. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself." He smiled darkly "We even look something alike, though I don't know what you were thinking with that hair."

"It's an Einzbern tradition." Herwald shot back, his tone mildly defensive despite the echoing quality of the room "And I fail to see what point this has, I highly doubt you wanted to trade beauty tips."

"Indeed," Riddle sneered, his tone mocking as he watched the Basilisk coil stealthily towards the statue of Salazar Slytherin "Tell me, Harry, excluding our current confrontation, you have faced Lord Voldemort twice now." His features grew dark at the admission "Twice you have crossed paths with my future self, and twice I have somehow miraculously failed to kill you." He glared into the darkness, as if hoping it would divulge his enemy's location "How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk, the longer you stay alive."

'And the sooner my ritual will be to completion.' He added, smiling darkly as he felt himself growing more corporeal by the second. It had taken too long, longer than he'd have liked certainly, for the hooks he'd placed in the girl to begin draining her of her magic. When she'd stopped writing he'd wondered if he'd jumped the gun and moved to fast at first, especially when the boy refused to write in the Diary again, but fortunately, Ginny had been desperate to see if he'd spilled her secrets to her crush, which was all the opening he needed to finish the job.

'I hope you enjoyed your last twelve years, Harry Potter…' he muttered, smiling darkly as the Basilisk began moving towards Slytherin's Statue in earnest, having clearly picked up the scent of its prey 'That was time ill deserved, rest assured that I shall not be as forgiving as my older counterpart."

"Have at thee, monster!" a voice called out Riddle's eyes widening as the Basilisk reared back, the King of Serpents spitting explosively as the ghost that had accompanied Herwald into the chamber rushed it head on, her face hidden behind a horned helmet, no doubt to shield her eyes from direct view.

The Basilisk hissed, an explosive, menacing expression of rage that translated into a string of enraged expletives to the stunned Riddle. Not that the sight of the Knight fighting the Serpent shocked him mind you, it was, after all, what they did, but that Slytherin's beast would know such foul language.

_"Missserable pessst!" _it hissed, head lashing through the air, it's tail lashing out as it tried to swat the ghost away, only for it to predictably pass through the fallen knight with no ill effects, for the knight that is _"Begone cold one! We have no interessst in you!"_

The Knight, naturally, did not respond to the Serpent's words save to lunge forwards once again, her silver blade digging deep into the monster's flesh, doing no damage outside of spreading a deadly chill through the Basilisk's body causing it to hiss and rage in agony. After all, while Basilisks and other such magical serpents weren't as dependent on sunlight as their mundane brethren, they were still reptiles at the core, and as such, were naturally predisposed against cold climates. Even with the onset of the summer months the walls of the Chamber continued to give off an unearthly chill, one that even Riddle was beginning to feel as he slowly came more and more tangible.

One of the reasons the beast remained sealed inside the statue was to protect it from the elements, the serpent essentially entering a state of magical hibernation until the master of the chamber called it forth. Now however, with every strike of that spectral blade a chill beyond mortal comprehension was seeping through the Basilisk, arguably doing more damage to the ancient beast than if the blade had been corporeal, the King of Serpents' movements beginning to grow more rash, less coordinated, it's hisses of anger and discomfort growing more urgent with each strike Riddle's features growing darker as he watched the great blunt head weave drunkenly between the pillars, the deadly, sabre-like fangs snapping furiously yet fruitlessly at its fore, the Knight clearly ignoring the head in favour of the rest of its massive body.

"LEAVE HIM!" Riddle roared, the heir of Slytherin cursing himself for losing the girl's wand, making a note to learn a few exorcism spells once his body was corporeal "He cannot hurt you! Ignore him and find the boy!"

_"Silber und Eisen als Ursprung…"_ Herwald's voice echoed, Riddle's head snapping up, trying to spot the boy-who-lived in the gloom _"Edelstein und der Großherzog der Verträge als Eckstein…"_

'What is that?' he muttered, scowling in suspicion even as the spectral knight resumed his attack on the Basilisk even as the chanting continued 'That's not latin…German?'

_"Der Vorfahr ist mein Großmeister Einzbern…"_ the adopted Einzbern continued to chant, the air in the chamber seeming to shift slightly, an unseen breeze causing the flames to dance in their braziers _"Der strahlende Wind wird zu einer Mauer. Die Tore in die vier Richtungen schließen sich, von der Krone kommend dreht sich die dreigespaltene Straße, die zum Königreich führt…"_

"What are you doing, Potter?" he called out, eyeing the surrounding darkness warily, "Are you praying? Have you accepted your fate to die at my hands?"

_"Schließen, schließen, schließen, schließen, schließen."_ Herwald chanted, Riddle's features contorting in anger at being so casually ignored _"Wiederhole alles fünfmal. Zerbrich sobald gefüllt…"_

"I didn't take you to be the religious type, Potter." Riddled called out, rather annoyed that his opponent was ignoring him "I'd have thought one raised by the Einzberns would be above such things."

_"Ich verkünde."_ Herwald continued, his even tones echoing around the chamber, Riddle suppressing a shiver as he felt the cool, biting chill of the chamber shift subtly, as if something was altering the very composition of the air_ "Dein Selbst dient mir, mein Schicksal liegt in deinem Schwert."_

'What the devil is he saying?' he demanded, the one-sided battle between the Basilisk and the ghost forgotten as he tried to locate his enemy 'It can't be a spell, even the German's use Latin for Spell casting…and Alchemy requires no spoken incantations…'

"Whatever you're planning won't work Potter!" he called out, his tone confident as he tried to drown out the hauntingly chilling incantation "There's no way out of this chamber, and even if you could get past me, the Basilisk will hunt you wherever you go!"

_" Gemäß der Ankunft des Heiligen Grals, wenn du dieser Gesinnung, diesem Grund folgst, dann antworte._" Herwald continued, his voice seemingly rising in pitch, Riddle's eyes snapping towards the statue of Slytherin, where a dull red light was shining _"Hier ist mein Schwur. Ich bin der, der alles Gute der Welt der Toten wird, ich bin der, der alles Böse der Welt der Toten aufbahrt. Du, sieben Himmel gehüllt in drei Wörter der Macht…"_

"THERE HE IS!" he hissed, pointing towards the statue, actually enraged that the boy had used his ancestor's effigy for shelter, "LEAVE THE DEAD ONE! THE BOY IS BEHIND THE STATUE! KILL HIM!"

The Basilisk hissed, ignoring the chilling, spectral strikes of Mordred's blade as it turned to answer it's master's call, the King of Serpents slithering towards the statue of it's Master, loosing a menacing hiss as it reared back, towering over the still form of Herwald, who was apparently standing in the middle of a glowing alchemical array with his eyes closed, one hand held clenched before him, blood dripping from his palm to land in the centre.

Hissing victoriously, the King of Serpents Reared back to it's full height, towering over it's prey, it's sabre-like fangs bared in anticipation, acidic venom dropping to the floor as it gazed down at it's seemingly unknowing prey. It had been a long time since it had devoured anything more substantial than the rodents that stupidly littered the tunnels of the school, it's current master, up till recently, having apparently been too squeamish to allow it to consume it's prey.

However, even if the master hadn't authorized this kill, the King of Serpents would've eaten the boy anyway. Not only had he dared to injure it, he had used a spirit to torment it, such a brazen insult would not be tolerated.

"KILL HIM!" Riddle hissed, a sentiment shared by his monstrous servant, the Basilisk's own hiss drowning out it's master's order as it lunged forwards, fangs bared to strike the troublesome prey, the meddlesome spirit from before lunging in front of it, arms spread wide as if to shield the boy, for all the good it would do, for even despite the chilling touch, the Basilisk was in no mood to care anymore.

As Riddle looked on in manic glee, as the Basilisk's fangs drew ever nearer to Mordred's spectral form, Herwald's emerald eyes snapped open, the boy looking death right in the mouth as he delivered the final verse of his spell.

It was a spell he had only performed once, a spell that by all rights could only be cast once per lifetime, the requirements for which being almost impossible to obtain. However, there was precedent that refuted this fact, two perfect examples actually, the first having occurred well before he'd met the Einzberns, the latter shortly after he'd teamed up with Rin and Shirou to defeat Caster.

_"Erscheine vom Ring der Unterdrückung,"_ he called out, the glowing circle beneath him erupting with crimson light as he flooded it with a combination of the ambient Prana in the Chamber and his own personal Od _"Oh Hüter des Gleichgewichts!"_

For a moment, he feared nothing had happened, the sabre-fangs of the Basilisk literally in his face, so close he could smell the snake's breath on his face.

The next moment, there was a flash of light, a flash of steel, and the Basilisk's head landed on the other side of the statue, the body falling to the ground, twitching spasmodically, like a lizard's tail.

"What?" Riddle stammered, the memory made flesh gaping like a fish, his gaze travelling from the severed head of the basilisk to the black Knight, clearly alarmed "You…where did…how did…?"

"It's called Magic, Tom." Herwald called out, stepping out from behind the statue, wrapping a strip of fabric around his hand "You would think a former Slytherin Prefect would know that much."

"Don't mess with me Potter!" Riddle snarled, though there was fear in his eyes now as he eyed the boy-whop-refused-to-die warily "No second year spells could've beheaded the King of Serpents!"

"On that account, I will agree." Herwald conceded, his tone mocking, "Basilisk scales are almost as resilient as Dragonhide in regards to the immunity to magic…" he smiled mockingly "then again, Dragons are notorious for being felled by four feet of forged steel."

"Clearly the Dragons of your time are not much to speak of then." A voice opined, Riddle's eyes widening in alarm as the sound of armoured footsteps echoed through the Chamber, the Effigy's eyes widening in alarm as a figure stepped out from behind the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die.

It was a Knight, there was no way to mistake such a figure as anything else, but unlike the Suits of Armour that lined the halls of Hogwarts, THIS Knight was clad in armour of finest silver over a red tunic. Red markings adorned the breast-plate, over-sized Tasset and Besagues, which combined with the horned helmet that completely concealed the Knight's face and the spiked gauntlets that adorned his arms to give an overall intimidating appearance.

But what truly frightened the Effigy was the Knight's weapon, a two-handed broadsword that shone bright silver even in the dim light of the Chamber, the basilisk's blood dripping from the sword like water, as if repelled from the blade by the runes that adorned the flat of the blade. Riddle was no expert on swords, indeed, like most Wizards, he regarded them as barbaric, but even he could tell that the weapon was beautiful, a dangerous beauty that caused him to feel decidedly uncomfortable the longer he stared at it.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Herwald called out, snapping Riddle out of his trance, the Effigy stunned to find he'd broken out into a cold sweat simply gazing at the Knight's weapon "I can't blame you for being entranced, after all, it isn't every day you see a Noble Phantasm." He smiled as Riddle's eyes widened "Ah, I see you did your homework, well then I'm sure you realize that, before a weapon of THIS calibre, a Basilisk's scales are about as effective as a butter shield."

Before Riddle could say anything, Herwald lashed out with his wand, the memory flinching, expecting a curse or hex of some sort, only to freeze as the Einzbern merely summoned his diary, a cold sweat washing over him as his soul anchor landed in the younger Slytherin's extended palm.

"Knowing that…" Herwald continued, his tone as pleasant as a serpent's kiss "I can't help but wonder how a soul fragment sealed in a book would fare…" he smiled cruelly "Let's find out shall we?"

Riddle screamed and lunged for the boy, his hands outstretched, though whether it was to seize the book or throttle his enemy would never be known as Herwald, with an almost dismissive air, tossed the diary to the side, the Knight's sword coming down on the cursed tome point first, burying itself into the heart of the book.

* * *

><p>And with that, the Chamber of Secrets is slowly drawing to a close.<p>

Scout: Seriously man! Enough with the damn cliff-hangers!

Spy: It IS starting to grate on ze nerves a little, Auteur.

Kyugan: Which is why I got the follow-up Chapter already to be shipped out.

Sniper: A two-fer-one deal eh? Good on ya!


	19. Chapter 19 Return & Retribution

Kyugan: As promised, Two-Chapters for the price of one!

Scout: Ey! Alright!

Spy: Finally, we can move on to ozer things!

Scout: Where'd Doc go?

Medic: WHERE IS ZE MONEY?!

Scout: Nevermind...eesh, that is NOT how a scalpel is supposed to be used.

Kyugan: Aheh...yeah...in any case, The Wheel of Fate is turning, let's see what the Continuum Shift has wrought.

* * *

><p>Chapter Nineteen: Return and Retribution.<p>

The moment Mordred's sword buried itself in the book a piercing scream, long and dreadful, shattered the air, though whether it came from riddle, who was clutching his chest in agony, or the diary itself was debatable. Ink spurted out of the wounded soul anchor in torrents, gouts of it spraying out of the wound, staining the Knight's sword, partially obscuring the Fairy Runes that adorned the blade, only to dissolve with a hiss while the rest pooled on the floor.

Throughout the cacophony Herwald remained calm, his features impassive as he listened to the death throes of the Effigy with nary a sign of discomfort. It wasn't the first time he'd heard tortured screams after all, putting aside Quirrel the year before, the Einzberns did NOT suffer failure well, and he like all other children in the castle was made to watch whenever one of his peers was made an example of.

And so he stood there, his face as impassive as Salazar's statue as he watched the Heir of Slytherin, Tom Marvollo Riddle, the Boy-Who-Would-Become-Voldemort, writhe and twist on the ground, screaming in a strange mixture of human and Parseltongue, his limbs flailing frantically, as if searching for something to brace himself against the agony, something to keep him from falling deeper into the embrace of death.

And then he was gone, just like that, no puff of smoke, no ash to sweep up, one minute he had been writhing in agony not five feet away, the next there was nothing but the dying echoes of his screams, and the steady drip of ink still oozing from the diary.

"Ruhe in Frieden…" Herwald muttered, subconsciously crossing himself as he said so. Personally, he'd like nothing more than for the memory to burn in the infernal pits of hell, but better to be safe than sorry when it came to grudges from the deceased, the adopted Einzbern turning to face Mordred as the now corporeal Knight pulled her sword from the book "How does it feel to be amongst the living once more, Mordred?"

"It is…strange…" the Masked Knight admitted, her voice distorted by her helmet to sound more menacing, doubtless one of her Noble Phantasms "It is as if I have been half asleep, and only now stand awake." She admitted, gazing down at her sword as the last of the cursed ink was dissolved by the holy presence of the Fae Runes before turning to look at Herwald "How did you know this would work?"

"I didn't." Herwald admitted, smiling self-consciously as he imagined the look of shock on her face, bending down to pick up Riddle's diary, making sure to use a handkerchief, not daring to risk touching it with his bare hands.

It was one of the basic rules of the Heaven's Feel Ritual that a Master or Servant that had lost their partner could enter into a new pact provided the Master hadn't lost their Command Seals. It was one of the reasons the Seals were hoarded so religiously, a master that squandered his seals was considered an idiot of the highest calibre.

Still, that was no guarantee that the ritual would work with Mordred. When he'd summoned Assassin, he'd used an antique assassination tool, a relic recovered from the ancient order of Assassins during the crusades, in order to summon his Servant. Summoning a Servant without a catalyst required pot-luck, and more often than not the selection was random. In short, had Mordred not entered the summoning circle when she did, it was highly likely that some OTHER Epic Hero would've been summoned.

'And considering where we are, I'd bet any money it would have been Salazar Slytherin himself.' Herwald muttered, shivering at the idea of having to face not only Slytherin's heir and monster, but the man himself.

"Still, it is good to breathe the air of the living world once more…" Mordred opined, the Black Knight reaching up to remove her helmet, Herwald marveling at her resemblance to Arturia once more, unable to help a small smile as she scrunched up her nose in distaste "Though I must admit, this is a poor place to draw one's first breath."

"On that I will agree with you." Herwald chuckled, smiling wryly as he took in the damp, dimly lit Workshop of the legendary Salazar Slytherin, which had clearly been built with Salazar's particular tastes in mind "Could use a little more light in here, but with a little work, maybe some bookshelves, I think I could make it work."

"Mages…" Mordred scoffed, the Knight shaking her head in disbelief, a wry smirk adorning her lips that would've looked out of place on Arturia but seemed perfect for her as she watched Herwald eye their surroundings like a paleontologist in a bone yard "Always plotting something."

"Get used to it; we're going to be working together for some time." Herwald shot back, pausing in his examinations of the chamber to eye the knight when she scoffed "By the way, which class were you summoned to?"

"It would appear I have been summoned as Saber of Red." The Knight revealed, blinking in surprise at the look Herwald sent her "Is something amiss, Master?"

"Saber of RED?" Herwald repeated, the adopted Einzbern eyeing his recently summoned Servant in surprise, wondering if, just maybe, something had gone wrong with the ritual after all "You're certain that's your class?"

"I am." Mordred assured him, the Servant seeming just as confused with her Master's reaction as Herwald was at his Servant's title, a frown marring her features as she regarded the youth "Is there something wrong with my class?"

"What? No! Not at all…" Herwald countered, waving a hand to dismiss such a thought, even as he tried to make sense of it all in his mind. One of the main tenants of the Grail war was that it was to involve SEVEN Masters and SEVEN servants, who would be summoned from SEVEN Classes.

The one time the Einzberns had tried to alter the rule to better their chances, during the Third Grail War, it had backfired, summoning one of the weakest Servants imaginable, who had been amongst the first to fall. As a result, the Einzberns had forsworn going against the system again, and had instead focused on summoning the most powerful Servants of their respective classes for the upcoming wars, Arturia and Heracles being prime examples.

A faint moan from the end of the feet of Salazar's Statue snapped Herwald out of his musing, the Einzbern whipping round to see that Ginny was slowly stirring, the Einzbern turning to look at his Servant, only to sigh in relief as Mordred, without a word, returned to astral form, vanishing from sight.

'Well at least she seems aware of proper Servant procedure…' he muttered, putting his thoughts on the matter to the side for now as he knelt down by Ginny's side, helping her sit up with a firm, yet gentle hand on her back "Are you alright, Frau Weasley?"

"H-Harry?" Ginny stammered, blinking up at the Einzbern in confusion, only for realization to dawn in her eyes, the redhead sitting up straighter, taking in the towering chamber, the massive form of the dead basilisk.

"It's alright, Frau Weasley." Herwald assured her soothingly, placing a hand on her shoulders to get her to focus on him "It's dead, it cannot hurt you now."

"Dead?" Ginny repeated, as if surprised at the revelation, only to glance down, her eyes widening as she spied the ruined diary in his hand, her breath catching before she promptly tackled him, her arms wrapping around him as tears trailed down her face "Oh Harry! I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy…" she took a shuddering breath "it was me, Harry. Bu I s-swear I d-didn't mean to!"

"It's alright Frau…Ginny." Herwald assured her, deciding to use her name as a means of comforting her better, the Einzbern patting the girl on the back as he did so "I know, Riddle told me everything…just before I finished him off anyways."

"He's gone then?" Ginny asked, torn between confusion, wonderment and relief as she sat back, allowing Herwald to breathe easier "But…how? How did you find me? How did you…" she glanced towards the still form of the Basilisk and flinched "How did you kill that thing?"

"Magic." Herwald replied, smiling at the look of stunned amazement on her face as he helped her get to her feet "Never mind for now, let's see about getting you out of here."

"O…okay…" Ginny stammered, blushing as she accepted his outstretched hand, Herwald guiding her out of the Chamber, but not before retrieving her wand from where it had fallen, the redhead staring at it sadly as he led the way towards the tunnels beyond "I'm going to be expelled, aren't I?" she asked, fighting back the tears, though her voice trembled as she said it "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since Bill came, and now I'll have to leave and…" she swallowed, torn between shame and fear "what'll Mum and Dad say?"

"That you're worrying about nothing." Herwald assured her, his voice calm as he led her through the caverns, following the spectral form of Mordred as the Servant led the way "It was Riddle that made you do those things, and Ron's told me all about your father's experience with Magical tomes, so they shouldn't be too harsh on you."

"You think so?" she asked, still a little shaky, though there was a tinge of hope in her voice as she glanced up at him, a faint blush adorning her cheeks.

"I know so." Herwald assured her, though his smile soon fell as they came to the end of the tunnel, where the entrance to the shaft coming to a halt at the base of the tunnel "Now then…how the Hölle are we supposed to get back up there?"

"I…I think there's another way out…" Ginny stammered, the redhead blushing nervously as Herwald turned towards her "I remember another door that I…Tom…RIDDLE would use to get back to the surface without relying on the tunnels, it comes out near Hagrid's hut."

"Trust a serpent to have more than one way out." Herwald muttered, his tone laced with approval as he nodded subtly to Mordred, the invisible Servant following the pair as Ginny led the way back down the tunnels, up a concealed flight of stairs that emerged just inside the Forbidden Forest, within walking distance of Hagrid's hut.

"Mein Gott, look how late it's gotten…" Herwald muttered, the Einzbern blinking as he took in the Sun's position on the horizon "Must have been down there for over an hour…Draco's probably up in arms by now."

* * *

><p><em>Ginny's POV...<em>

Ginny said nothing, the redhead sending a distraught look towards Hagrid's hut, no doubt recalling how the Groundskeeper had been hauled off under suspicion of being the culprit for Riddle's actions, to which she herself was an unwitting accomplice, only to look up as Herwald clapped a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Come on," he urged, tilting his head towards the castle proper "Let's get you inside, I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be glad to see you're safe."

Ginny blushed, both at the feel of her crush's touch and his concern for her, the redhead taking his hand once again as he led them towards the castle, unaware of the silent form of Mordred as the Knight followed in astral form. No sooner had they stepped into the Great hall however, did they run smack dab into none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, the ponce looking greatly surprised at their arrival. Under his arms he carried several boxes, and two large trunks were levitating behind him.

"Ah…Mr. Potter…" the fop stammered, attempting his usual charming smile, though it looked more like a death grin as he glanced about, as if looking for some other means of escape "Fancy meeting you here…"

"Indeed…" Herwald opined, standing in front of Ginny, his emerald eyes narrowing as they roamed over Lockhart, glancing towards the boxes in his arms and the trunks "Going somewhere, Professor?"

"Ah, well, yes…" Lockhart stammered, the fop sweating under the force of Herwald's emerald stare, though he managed to maintain a semblance of his nervous smile "I received an urgent call, one of my colleagues from the Dark Defence League needs my assistance on a rather pressing assignment. It's simply unavoidable so I have to go."

"What about Ginny Weasley?" Herwald cut in, his tone cool, Ginny, hiding behind him, apparently catching on and keeping silent "I would have thought the fact she's been taken into the Chamber of Secrets would be a more urgent matter."

"Well, as to that…" Lockhart stammered, the fop now avoiding Herwald's eyes as he tried to subtly step past, only for Herwald to stand fast, his emerald eyes never leaving Lockhart's face "Most unfortunate, no one regrets more than I..."

"Are you not the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Herwald pressed, his voice cold as the Basilisk's blood as he continued to glare at the man "Is it not your duty to this school to protect your students from harm?" he carried on, not giving Lockhart space to gather his wits to respond "One would assume a man as EXPERIENCED as yourself would laugh in the face of such a challenge." He narrowed his eyes coldly "Unless, of course, you've been lying all this time."

Ginny blinked, the redhead looking on, unnoticed behind Herwald's back, as Lockhart froze, the man's eyes widening as he stood gaping down at the Boy-Who-Lived, his mouth hanging open in mid-retort.

"I did a little background research." Herwald continued, his tone calm as he continued to glare into Lockhart's eyes "The Einzbern Family is good at getting information on people that might prove…useful to us down the line."

Ginny shivered, a sentiment that was apparently shared by Lockhart, as the man was looking decidedly pale at the idea that the Einzberns had been tracking him.

"Imagine my surprise," Herwald continued, when our contact within the Magus Association's Enforcers revealed they had never heard of a Gilderoy Lockhart, or at least were unable to confirm that anyone by that name had been involved in the cases you claimed to have solved."

"Well…" Lockhart stammered, plastering on a weak smile as he did so "As I said, I was only ever an HONORARY member of the Dark Defence League…"

"Because all OFFICIAL MEMBERS are meant to register their achievements and Missions for screening by the Wizengamot." Herwald cut in like a whip-crack, actually causing Lockhart to flinch "The only people who AREN'T required to do so are the Enforcers, who answer only to the Magus Association, and those who wish to be left alone for various reasons."

* * *

><p>Herwald's POV...<p>

Lockhart said nothing, the man looking like a rat caught between a snake and a wall, only to suddenly smile, a confident, sickly smile that reminded Herwald far too much of Tom Riddle for his liking. "I suppose I should've expected so much from you, Harry." he applauded, ignoring the scowl Herwald sent his way "Indeed, I must admit that I wasn't entirely, TRUTHFUL, about my adventures. I admit I might have…rewritten a few things, yes." Lockhart admitted, apparently without losing a beat "But then again, I highly doubt my books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things."

"You've been taking the credit for other people's work." Herwald accused, his eyes like frozen emeralds as he glared at the man "Probably the work of Hermits that managed to escape the Enforcers and simply wished to be left alone."

Hermits and Philosophers were Magi who'd received a Sealing Designation, yet had managed to escape from the Enforcers before they could be turned into test subjects. Whereas Philosophers were considered a viable threat, and were pursued mercilessly, Hermits were generally left alone provided they didn't do something to reveal themselves to the non-magical public.

"Sharp as ever, Harry." Lockhart noted, that strange smiles still adorning his face as he continued to eye the boy "It wasn't easy tracking them all down, and even after I found them, it wasn't easy getting them to reveal their secrets." His eyes twinkled with some strange emotion "After I'd gotten them to spill the beans however, it was a simple matter of modifying their memories before letting the Enforcers know where to find them."

"You're a coward and a thief, Lockhart." Herwald growled, the Einzbern's features as dark as his hair as he scowled up at the man "You're nothing more than a vulture, and that's an insult to carrion eaters worldwide."

"Everyone's a critic." Lockhart simpered, before tossing his boxes in the air, as if to distract the teen, even as he leveled his wand at his chest "OBLIVI-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-!"

Herwald snorted, sneering down at Lockhart as he lowered his foot, the fop dropping his wand to clutch at his family jewels as he collapsed on his side, gaping like a landed trout.

"You have NO idea how long I've wanted to do that." Herwald muttered, a satisfied expression adorning his features as he noted the growing red stain forming between Lockhart's legs before kicking the fraud in the side so he was lying on his back. "Petrificus Totalus." he ordered, smirking as the fraud's arms snapped to his sides with a forcible crack, Lockhart's eyes widening in horror as he gazed up at his tormentor through a wall of pained tears.

"Don't worry, Scheißekopf, I've no intention of hurting you any further." Herwald assured the man, towering over him like the proverbial Sword of Damocles "Not physically anyway. After all, they say revenge is a dish best served cold..." he smiled coldly "and I can only imagine how your fans will react when they learn just how much of a fraud you are."

Lockhart's eyes widened, it was all he could do really, though Herwald was surprised to note several veins in the man's head were twitching, a sure sign that he was struggling against his bonds. "Don't bother," he mocked, "I've no intention of letting you go until the proper authorities arrive. And just in case you were thinking of using your ill-gotten fame to your advantage…" he gestured over his shoulder at Ginny, who was standing nearby, torn between alarm and shock at what she'd just seen "I'm sure Miss Weasley will be MORE than willing to testify against the man who left her for dead."

So saying, got to his feet, his wand coming up to open a nearby Broom closet, directing Lockhart's petrified form into it, none too gently either, before sealing it with a locking charm, ensuring that Filch wouldn't be opening it any time soon without a staff member to help.

"Glad that's over with." He muttered, putting his wand away with a sniff of disgust, looking down in surprise as something tapped against his boot, only to smile wryly as he picked up Lockhart's new wand "And I even got a souvenir out of it…not bad at all."

"Was that…all true?" Ginny asked, the redhead finally finding her voice as she looked between her idol and the closet that now contained Lockhart "Did he really do all those things?"

"A little something that my Grandfather taught me." Herwald revealed, shivering as he recalled Jubstacheit's lessons on deception and manipulation "A braggart loves the sound of his own voice, he'll wax poetic about his achievements till you're blue in the face, ESPECIALLY when he believes he has you on the ropes."

"I see…" Ginny murmured, torn between her admiration for the older boy and her disgust at just what kind of man Lockhart truly was "I hope they throw him in Azkaban."

"Unlikely." Herwald countered, looking grim "As he said, most of the people he plagiarised were Hermits, which meant they were already on the Magus Association's Blacklist, even if they weren't high priority." He smirked "Not that it matters, as I've been looking into ruining the Scheißekopf ever since he vanished my arms, by this time tomorrow, there won't be a paper in Britain that isn't broadcasting what we just learned today."

* * *

><p><em>Ginny's POV...<em>

Ginny blinked, eyeing her crush with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and a little wariness. Her brothers, predominantly Ron, had told her that Harry, Herwald rather, wasn't what everyone made him out to be. The fact he was a Slytherin had been a shock, certainly, but she hadn't cared about that, as he was still Harry Potter regardless what colours he wore.

It turned out, however, that the Harry James Potter she'd grown up hearing about was nothing like the Herwald von Einzbern she'd come to know over the year. He was charming, certainly, and polite when it suited, but he was crafty as well, as Fred and George could vouch, and did NOT appreciate slander, whether it was directed at him or any of his friends. He wasn't a Quidditch fan, which was a rarity in boys his age, and seemed to prefer the company of a good book to sports, though that didn't mean he was unsociable.

In other words, compared to the ideal, 'Golden Boy' that Ginny, and most of the Wizarding World, had grown up expecting him to be, Herwald von Einzbern was decidedly more real, more relatable, and as such, all the more approachable. It was actually quite reassuring actually, to learn that the Boy-Who-Lived was just as human as she was, rather than Merlin reborn as some of the tabloids proclaimed him.

"Now then." Herwald spoke up, snapping the redhead out of her thoughts once more as he dusted off his hands "What say we see about finding the Headmaster's office?"

Something trilled, the students and Spirit looking up to see a large, winged creature swooping down towards them, trilling softly, filling their chests with a warm, indescribable feeling.

* * *

><p><em>Herwald's POV...<em>

"That's a Phoenix." Mordred murmured, her voice audible only to Herwald, her emerald eyes wide with amazement at the sight of the immortal firebird "They were rare even in my time."

"Grandfather mentioned that Dumbledore had a Phoenix familiar." Herwald recalled, eyeing the phoenix with a mixture of wariness and intrigue as it alighted on the banister of the great staircase "You must be Fawkes."

"Pretty…" Ginny opined, eyeing the beautiful creature with a look of wonder, reaching out hesitantly to touch it, Fawkes crooning softly as he allowed her to stroke his plumage, before flapping it's wings and rising into the air, the trio looking on as it flew up the stairs, alighting on the upper level, one golden eye looking back at them expectantly.

"Are you here to show us the way?" Herwald asked, honestly not surprised when the Phoenix bowed it's head slightly in acknowledgement, Mordred following in the pairs wake as they followed the glowing golden bird up the stairs and down a long corridor, coming to a halt outside a room which Ginny identified as Professor McGonagall's office, having come here once before in an attempt to tell her head of house about the diary, only to lose her nerve at the last moment.

"If only I'd told her none of this would have happened…" Ginny stammered, eyeing the door to the office warily, only to blink as Fawkes alighted on her shoulder, the phoenix crooning gently, sending a wave of warmth through her.

"What's done is done, Frau Weasley." Herwald assured the girl, his tone soothing as he stood beside her, the invisible form of Mordred at his back "What matters now is what you do next."

Ginny blinked, smiling gratefully at the elder youth, one hand coming up to stroke Fawkes' plumage before reaching out to knock on the door, pushing it open when the Professor's voice called them to enter.

For a moment there was silence, before a deafening scream tore through the corridor, Mordred, still in astral form, actually going for her sword until Herwald mentally ordered her to stand down.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley cried, the girl's parents leaping from their seats in front of McGonagall's fireplace, all manner of decorum forgotten as they flung themselves on their daughter, tears of relief falling freely as they held her close, as if fearful she would disappear once more "Oh Ginny, Ginny, Ginny…!"

"Mum…Dad…" Ginny managed to get out, the youngest Weasley eyeing her parents in wonderment, as if seeing them for the first time, tears of relief forming in her eyes as she returned their embrace, burying her face in her parent's chests as she did so "I'm sorry…"

* * *

><p>There, two chapters for the Price of One, enjoy.<p>

As explained, expect this and Philosopher's stone to undergo an overhaul before Prisoner of Azkaban is released. Don't worry, won't be removing Famelheim. Simply making some edits to address issues brought to my attention.


	20. Chapter 20: Loose Ends

Kyugan: Greetings All! Just to remind you all, the Herwald series is going to overgo an Overhaul before I write up Prisoner of Azkaban. Rest assured, the pairing of Sirius/Taiga will remain, I'm simply not too satisfied with some things and am going to rehash them.

Medic: Zere is always room for improvements.

Engineer: Yup.

Kyugan: I may also get around to writing a proper prequel for the series, but again, don't hold your breath. Herwald's role in the previous grail war will change somewhat, but that's it. In the meantime, the Wheel of Fate is turning...Let's see what the latest Continuum Shift has wrought.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty: Loose Ends.<strong>

Herwald stood back, the adopted Einzbern watching the reunion between the Weasley's with a small, understanding smile. In a way, he could relate to the family of redheads, as he'd felt the same sense of helplessness and despair when Illyasviel's life had been in danger as a result of whatever the hell the Einzberns had done to her during her training. Had it not been for the timely arrival of Nicholas Flamel, he had little to no doubts he would have lost his sister that day.

No matter who you were, the loss of family was a painful blow, one which Herwald wouldn't wish on his worst enemy...Well, maybe Riddle and Lockhart, but Riddle himself had admitted to being the last scion of Slytherin, and knowing Lockhart any family the idiot had left would be glad to see the back of him.

Fawkes, who had taken to the air with the Weasley's cries, let out a happy chirp, snapping Herwald from his thoughts as he flew towards the fireplace where none other than Albus Dumbledore stood next to professor McGonagall, the man's eyes twinkling proudly as his familiar assumed it's place on his shoulder, McGonagall taking great, steadying gasps as she clutched at her heart, clearly having not expected such a shock.

"Good afternoon, Harry." Dumbledore greeted, smiling at the youth even as Herwald suppressed the mild discomfort of the man's familiarity "I see you have been busy in my absence."

"Indeed, Headmaster." Herwald returned, his tone formal to remind the old man he didn't quite trust him, only to choke as he suddenly found himself swept into Molly Weasley's tight embrace.

"Oh Harry!" the Weasley Matriarch wept, almost crushing the adopted Einzbern, who was honestly surprised at the strength she possessed "You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that." Professor McGonagall admitted weakly, the Transfiguration mistress having regained some of her composure even as Molly released the youth "Well, Mr. Potter?"

"Magic." Herwald replied, smiling cryptically at the woman, whose eyes flashed, her Scottish temper rising to the fore even as Dumbledore's blue pair twinkled mirthfully "Only a joke, Professor, but it has been a long, trying day, and while I personally have no problems recounting the tale, I dare say Frau Weasley has had more than enough excitement for one day."

"Indeed." Dumbledore agreed, the man's eyes twinkling in approval as he nodded towards Ginny, who blinked at the attention "Minerva, could you see Molly and Arthur to the Hospital wing? I'm sure Poppy won't mind, seeing as most of the victims have already been released. Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate, I always find that cheers me up." He smiled at the Transfiguration mistress "And let the Kitchens know to prepare a feast…I dare say this calls for a celebration."

"Of course, Albus." McGonagall acknowledged, her tone hesitant, as she clearly wanted to hear the tale herself, though it didn't stop her from smiling at the youth as she walked past, leading the Weasley's out of her office and down the corridor towards the hospital wing.

"And now, Harry." Dumbledore continued once the door was safely shut behind them, the headmaster crossing the room to sit behind McGonagall's desk, his blue eyes twinkling as he gestured for Herwald to sit "I would most like to hear what has been going on in my absence."

"But of course." Herwald responded, the Einzbern stepping forward, placing the remains of Riddle's diary on the table before accepting the offered chair, though not before making sure the Ring of Kay was secure on his finger. Not that he'd felt anything brush against his shields mind you, but it was better safe than sorry, especially considering everything that had happened this year.

Once he was certain that his shields were secure, he began recounting a slightly edited rendition of the events that had transpired, not only since Dumbledore's removal, but since the beginning of the year. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence, speaking of the disembodied voice in the walls, how Rin had deduced he was hearing a basilisk in the pipe, how he and the others had tracked down the last victim of the basilisk, Moaning Myrtle, and deduced that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom.

"I have to admit it was a bit of a surprise." He revealed, looking fearlessly into Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes as he did so "But then I assume that was not ALWAYS a girl's bathroom, was it?"

"I suspect it was not." Dumbledore acknowledged with a small smile "The walls of Hogwarts are older than many would believe, Harry. The castle itself could be considered alive, and with the appointment of each new Headmaster, it changes itself to better accommodate its inhabitants."

"I always DID wonder how we could have flushing toilets in a castle as old as this." Herwald noted, to which Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously "Still, I must admit you're taking the revelation of my Parseltongue status rather well, Headmaster."

"Should I feel intimidated by it, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, smiling faintly as the firelight glancing off his half-moon spectacles "I believe you yourself have pointed out that the skill, in itself, is not an evil thing." He turned his attention to the diary "What interests me most is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

"You knew?" Herwald wondered, only to kick himself mentally as the old man smiled knowingly at him. Of course he knew, Riddle himself had admitted that Dumbledore had never trusted him, even BEFORE Myrtle had been murdered "You knew all this time and you did nothing?"

"Despite popular misconception, Harry, I am neither all-knowing nor all-seeing." Dumbledore countered, smiling softly as he said so "Yes, I knew the Chamber had been opened, you heard me say as much in the infirmary I believe, and yes, I suspected that Lord Voldemort was responsible, as he is the last of the Slytherin Bloodline and thus the only one who could command Slytherin's beast. But I did not know what the beast was, nor did I know where its lair was located."

"And even if you had, it would have done you no good, as only a Parseltongue could open the chamber." Herwald deduced, his tone understanding, if not forgiving as he glanced at the remains of Riddle's diary "I suppose I should give Riddle some credit, not only was he able to record his memory into a diary, he was able to do it to such an extent he could pass certain traits along to whoever he possessed."

"Indeed." Dumbledore noted, his features unreadable as he picked up the remains of the soul anchor "Of course, Tom was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen. I taught him myself, fifty years ago." He closed his eyes, releasing a soft sigh that was equal parts disappointment and regret "He disappeared after leaving the school, traveled far and wide, sinking deeper and deeper into the Dark Arts. He consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"Even the most poisonous snake can appear beautiful and harmless if it chooses." Herwald opined, his tone firm "I'm more worried about what's going to happen to Frau Weasley. Unwittingly or not, she still played a role in the attacks."

"Your concern for Miss Weasley is appreciated, but unnecessary, Harry." Dumbledore assured the boy, his voice firm, though Herwald thought he detected a hint of pride in the man's tone "There will be no punishment, for older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort, and I dare say this entire experience has been lesson enough."

Herwald said nothing, but internally he exhaled a sigh of relief for the girl that had already gone through so much. Being expelled from an institution as prestigious as Hogwarts was a horrible stigma which didn't disappear easily, she'd be lucky to find work anywhere in the magical world and the Weasleys had enough on their plates as it was.

"All that is left, Harry, is what to do with YOU." Dumbledore continued, eyes twinkling as Herwald's back stiffened "Oh relax my boy, I only meant that you, and your companions of course, will be receiving Special Awards for Services to the School…and, let me see, yes, I think two hundred points apiece." He smiled as Herwald opened his mouth "And I'm afraid you cannot contradict me this time, my boy, as that IS the traditional reward for those who do this school Service, as stated by the Hogwarts Charter."

Herwald had to admit he was a little impressed with the old man's tactics. By factoring in his friends, which included Three Gryffindors, Dumbledore could promote an image of inter-house unity without coming off as favouring one house over the other. True, with Herwald that meant Slytherin gained an additional eight hundred points, but the Gryffindors had really pulled themselves up this year, and if memory served, the scores were more or less tied to begin with.

"If that is all sir?" Herwald asked, motioning to get out of his chair, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and a good night's sleep after this ordeal, only to meet the Headmaster's blue eyes and pause.

"One more thing, Harry." Dumbledore assured him, smiling reassuringly as Herwald resumed his seat "If I am to understand your tale, even with your exclusions, then I am to believe you met, albeit briefly, Tom Riddle." He eyed the boy thoughtfully. "I imagine he was most interested in you."

"Obsessive, you could say." Herwald admitted, shivering slightly at the memory of the sickening leer that had distorted Riddle's handsome features "He certainly loved the sound of his own voice."

"Tom always did have a flair for the dramatic." Dumbledore admitted, his tone laced with humour, though his eyes never left Herwald's own "And what did you think of him, Harry?"

Herwald was silent, recalling the memory of Riddle, how he'd appeared, how he'd changed, the subtle differences between the one from Hagrid's capture and the one in the chamber.

"I must admit, I always found it strange, how Voldemort was able to recruit so many followers to his side." He opined, tone calculating "Everyone casts him as a monster, less than a man, but after seeing him, I have to admit he was right on one account: We do share a lot of similarities."

"And in a sense, he is right." Dumbledore agreed calmly "Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. Resourcefulness, determination, a certain disregard for rules…"

Herwald said nothing, simply held the old man's disapproving look with his own, though he did spot the old man's moustache quiver in a sign of amusement after a moment. "As for your ability to speak Parseltongue," Dumbledore continued "unless I am much mistaken, I do believe Voldemort transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar." He smiled at Herwald's look of surprise "Not something he intended to do, I'm sure…"

"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?" Herwald repeated, the adopted Einzbern understandably alarmed at the very idea, even as Mordred stood up straighter behind his chair.

"It certainly seems so." Dumbledore admitted calmly. "However, for all your similarities, there is a stark difference between you and Tom Riddle, and that is the choices you have made." He smiled at the boy "Tom Riddle would never have socialised with anyone outside his own house, and certainly would never have endangered himself to come to the rescue of another student, and certainly not a member of a different house. In that, you are a better man that he would ever be."

* * *

><p>For a minute, neither of them spoke, the two of them simply looking at one another, Herwald unable to comprehend the degree of faith the headmaster placed in him.<p>

Amongst the Einzberns, he'd been considered a weapon at best. It had only been after the Grail war, when Shirou had taken him and Illyasviel in, that he'd been viewed as a person.

Now here, within the halls of Hogwarts, he was not only viewed as a person, but one whose existence was valued, even treasured to a degree he'd only ever seen recorded in the tales of epic heroes, despite his insistences to the contrary.

As if sensing the boy's dilemma, Dumbledore pulled open one of the drawers in Professor McGonagall's desk and took out a quill and a bottle of ink. "What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep." He opined, quill blurring across the parchment "I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban, we need our gamekeeper back."

"You might want to draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet as well, Headmaster." Herwald opined as he got to his feet "Professor Lockhart seems to have been called off on urgent business."

"Has he now?" Dumbledore noted, and Herwald swore he could FEEL the old man's smile, despite the fact it was hidden behind his beard and moustache "Dear me, we do seem to run through Defence Against the Dark Arts Professors, don't we?"

Herwald simply smiled, inclining his head towards the man as he got to his feet, moving towards the door only to pause as Mordred, still in astral form, moved before him, the knight's eyes narrowing as the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall, revealing the furious form of Lord Lucius Malfoy standing in the doorway.

"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he spotted the cowering form of Dobby crouched behind his master as the man swept into the room, Dobby scurrying in after him, the elf's bony form heavily wrapped in bandages as he crouched at the hem of his master's cloak, a look of abject terror on his face as he attempted to finish cleaning his master's shoes with a stained rag, the elder Malfoy having apparently left in such a hurry that his not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was dishevelled.

"So!" Lucius hissed, his tone so cold, so serpentine, that it could almost pass for Parseltongue, the Lord of house Malfoy ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles as he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore "You've come back. The governors suspended you but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

"Well you see, Lucius." Dumbledore countered with a serene smile "The other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all." His smile widened, and despite the serene image, Herwald could not help the image that he was looking a lion in the mouth "Very strange tales they told me, too… Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Lucius went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury. "So have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have." Dumbledore smiled, and Herwald was surprised to note that the elder Malfoy seemed almost eager at the revelation as he demanded the name "It was the same person as last time, Lucius" the Headmaster continued "But THIS time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

As he held up the small black book with the large hole through the centre, Herwald noted a look of alarm in the elder Malfoy's eyes, though whether it was at the book or the mention of Riddle's alias was debatable.

"Master…" Mordred opined, her voice inaudible to all but Herwald as she stood at her Master's side in astral form "The elf seems to be trying to tell you something…"

Herwald blinked, turning his attention from Malfoy Senior to Dobby, his brow quirking as the elf kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

"A clever plan," Dumbledore admitted, drawing Herwald's attention back to the staring contest between the headmaster and Draco's father "Were it not for the work of Harry and his friends, INCLUDING your son Draco, Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will…"

'Damn the old man is good…" Herwald muttered, impressed despite himself as Mr. Malfoy gaped at the headmaster, looking like he'd been slapped in the face at the revelation that his son and heir had helped defeat Slytherin's monster.

"You should be proud of your son, Lucius." Dumbledore went on, "Were it not for him and Harry, who knows what might have happened. It is very fortunate that they discovered the diary and wiped Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise…"

"Very fortunate." Lucius managed to get out, his tone stiff, as if it were taking everything he had to keep from shrieking in rage, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he distinctly saw the man's right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand, only for him to turn on his heel and march off "We're going, Dobby!" he snapped, wrenching open the door before promptly kicking the elf through it as Dobby came hurrying up to him, the poor creature squealing with pain all the way along the corridor, causing Herwald's fists to tighten.

"Disgraceful…" Mordred hissed, the Knight looking ready to draw steel as she listened to Dobby's squeals draw further away "Even in my day, such treatment of a servant was frowned upon."

"It's still frowned upon TODAY." Herwald muttered softly, knowing full well that had Lucius Malfoy dared to treat and Einzbern elf like he treated his own, he would have lost his leg for the affront, never mind whatever Grandfather Jubstacheit would do to him for mishandling one of his servants.

"Is there something else troubling you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, snapping the boy out of his thoughts, his blue eyes twinkling knowingly as he placed the ruined diary back on the table.

"Just on my way, Professor Dumbledore." Herwald assured him, a sudden burst of inspiration forming behind his eyes "Sir, if it's not too much trouble, would it be alright if I kept the diary?"

"I don't see why not." Dumbledore admitted, his eyes twinkling in a manner that unnerved Herwald despite his shields "I dare say you'll use it as a memento of the year."

"Something like that." Herwald admitted, picking up the ruined soul anchor before proceeding out of the office and down the corridor, following the sounds of Dobby's squeals of pain until he caught up with the pair at the top of the stairs. "Lord Malfoy." he called out, his tone calm and even, as if he were addressing an equal, and in all honesty he was, "Might I have a word with you?"

"What is it now, Potter?" the elder Malfoy snapped, glaring at the boy in disdain, only to flinch as Herwald's emerald eyes forced him to look away. "What do you want?"

"I know how Ginerva Weasley got her hands on Riddle's diary, Lord Malfoy." Herwald opined, his tone flat, uncompromising "You slipped the diary inside her Transfiguration book when you bumped into the Weasley's at Flourish and Blotts."

"Prove it." Lucius hissed, his white hands clenching and unclenching angrily, as if he wanted nothing more than to wring the boy's neck.

"Now why on earth would I wish to do that?" Herwald countered, earning a look of surprise from not only the elder Malfoy, but Mordred and Dobby, "Need I remind you that I count Draco as one of my friends? I hardly wish to ruin his life by sending his father to prison simply because he was duped to following the orders of a charlatan."

"What the devil are you talking about Potter?" Lucius asked, his tone suspicious, yet intrigued, as it seemed the Boy-Who-Lived was every inch a Slytherin.

"Did you know that Lord Voldemort once went by the name of Tom Marvollo Riddle?" Herwald asked, earning a look of intrigue from the elder magus, as the Dark Lord's true name was the subject of many rumours, some even believed him to be something other than human "And that his father was, in fact, a Muggle?" Herwald asked, suppressing the urge to smirk at the elder Malfoy's look of shock "It's true, his Father, Tom Riddle Senior, is the son of a Muggle Lord who was duped into bedding his mother, Merope Gaunt, through use of a forbidden love potion."

"What proof do you have of this?" the elder Malfoy demanded, though Herwald was pleased to note the tension in the man's body had lifted, and he seemed to have regained his composure.

"It's listed in the school records, which Madam Pince keeps in the library." Herwald revealed; his tone purely conversational "I have to admit, when I first looked him up after he introduced himself to me, I didn't think much of him. Still, I suppose it's impressive that the Half-breed son of a Muggle and a Squib was able to dupe some of the most powerful Pureblood families in Britain to following him."

Lucius' eyes flared with anger and Herwald knew he had won, the elder Malfoy's pride reacting to the words 'Half-breed', 'Muggle', 'Squib' and 'Duped' with the typical Pureblood arrogance. If there was one thing Pureblood Magi valued over money and power, it was their pride, for someone to insinuate that they had been made a fool of was tantamount to insulting their entire family.

"I can understand your rage, Lord Malfoy." Herwald assured the man, his tone polite, yet formal, as he didn't want to sound like he was patronising the elder Malfoy "Had someone done to the same to MY family, there would not be enough left of them to bury in a thimble."

"Indeed…" Lucius muttered, the mention of the Einzberns seeming to cool his rage somewhat, as he recalled EXACTLY whom he was speaking to "These records…you say they are in the Library?"

"In the restricted section," Herwald revealed, his tone calm "however, I'm sure not even Madam Pince would deny a member of the board of Governors access."

"I should hope not." The elder Malfoy sniffed, seeming to preen at the mention of his position, the unseen Mordred rolling his eyes at the man's actions while Dobby blinked at them in confusion, the little elf clearly lost in the conversation "Is that all Po…LORD Potter?"

"One last thing, Lord Malfoy." Herwald insisted, hands behind his back "Tell me, do you know what the current market value is for Basilisk Skin?" he smiled at the man "I only ask because I might be in the market to provide some."

"Indeed?" the elder Malfoy asked, quirking a brow, and Herwald was pleased to note a hint of alarm in the man's eyes "About how much skin would you have?"

"Several skins, of varying age, the smallest at twenty feet in length." Herwald listed, smiling at the look in the older man's eyes "I might also have access to the serpent's venom, though I'm afraid the eyes would be off-limits."

"Naturally, they're contraband the world over." The elder Malfoy noted, though Herwald wasn't surprised to note a hint of disappointment in his tone "I cannot think of a figure off the top of my head, but I can assure you Lord Potter that if what you tell me is true, you're standing on a veritable gold mine."

"A goldmine that would have been lost to me were it not for your son, Lord Malfoy." Herwald pointed out, stoking the man's ego "Ergo I feel it only fair that he receive a share of the profits, to be held in trust of course."

"But of course…" Lucius agreed, a purely business smile coming to his features, a look of approval in his eyes as he offered his hand to the boy, "I shall have the figures worked out and posted toy you within the day. I must say, Draco has chosen his friends well, Lord Potter."

"The apple does not fall far from the tree, Lord Malfoy." Herwald assured the man, shaking his hand "However, just to ensure things go smoothly, would you agree to transferring your house-elf to me? As a sign of friendship of course?"

"Take him." Lucius insisted, not even thinking twice about it, for compared to the wealth before him, a clumsy house elf was nothing "Though I should warn you Lord Potter, he's more trouble than he's worth."

"I seem to attract trouble wherever I go, Lord Malfoy." Herwald countered with a wry smile, sending a quick look towards Dobby, who was eyeing him reverently from the side "Rest assured, I'll find some use for him."

"Very well." Lucius conceded, the two shaking hands before he turned to Dobby, who was staring at Herwald reverently "Dobby, I am releasing you into the service of Lord Potter," he ordered, pulling out a handkerchief and tossing it at the elf "Don't disgrace him as you've done me or I'll have your head."

And with that he nodded once to Herwald, before sweeping down the corridor, his head held high and a decidedly eager spring in his step, like a man whose suddenly been told he's struck oil.

"Was that REALLY necessary?" Mordred asked, the former ghost assuming her corporeal form as she watched the elder Malfoy go with a hint of disgust, fingering the hilt of her blade "The man deserves to pay for his crimes."

"Perhaps, but no court in the world would be able to convict him, even if he wasn't one of the most influential members of the Wizengamot." Herwald opined, waving a hand dismissively once he was certain the elder Malfoy was out of earshot "As it is, better to have him as an ally than an enemy, at least this way he's sure to make a profit, which is more than can be said when he served under Riddle." He smirked "In fact, I dare say by the time he's finished spreading the truth about Riddle through the Pureblood grapevine there's going to be a distinct lack of support for the parasite."

"To kill the snake, take out its head." Mordred applauded, her approval in her Master's cunning apparent even as they turned to Dobby, who was still gazing up at Herwald reverently, Lucius' handkerchief held in his hands.

"Master has given Dobby to Harry Potter…" the little elf stammered, looking like he was about to burst into tears at any moment "Master has given Dobby to Harry Potter!"

"Indeed he has." Herwald nodded, looking down at the elf with his hands clasped behind his back, a stern expression on his face "And I expect you to carry out my orders to the letter, is that understood?"

"Yes Master Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby cheered, pulling off a salute that caused his ears to flap humorously, a wide, toothy smile on his face "What is your first order, Master Harry Potter sir?"

"First of all, call me either Sir or Master, no need to use my full title." Herwald instructed, knowing that, while some elves appreciated kindness, it was still good to be firm "Second, I have a task for you, but before we get down to it, I need you to come with me."

"Is there something the matter, Master?" Mordred asked, the Saber Class Servant falling into step alongside his Master as they walked back up the stairs.

"Just need to have a word with someone…" Herwald assured the spectral Knight, though the look in his eyes was anything but reassuring.

* * *

><p>Penultimate Chapter up next.<p>

Scout: Huh, keep forgetting Harry's a snake, not a lion.

Demoman: Well te be fair, he followed the script a lil' too closely this toime.

Kyugan: Hopefully the epilogue will leave a better taste in the critics mouths then.


	21. Chapter 21: Just Rewards

Kyugan: Another two-for one deal, and the penultimate chapter too.

Engineer: Dammit Doc, I'm not gonna build you a pool o' money so you can swim in it!

Scout: Yeah, don't Valve already have one of those?

Engineer: No comment.

Kyugan: Aheh...yeah...in any case, The Wheel of Fate is turning, let's see what the Continuum Shift has wrought.

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><p>Chapter Twenty-One: Just Rewards.<p>

As the many students of Hogwarts made their way down to the Great-Hall, dressed in their night-clothes no less, it was to find a rather unusual pair walking AWAY from the feast they'd been roused to attend, an oddity in and of itself, though not nearly as odd as the sight of the prodigal Boy-Who-Lived striding down the corridor, a rather scrawny house-elf at his side, the little thing actually running to keep pace with the boy's longer strides, though judging by the look of glee on its face, it clearly didn't mind.

Most of the Purebloods didn't think twice about it, after all, the castle certainly had House Elves, how else would they get anything done around here if there weren't? What was unusual was the fact the Hogwarts elves never made themselves visible, adopting an out of sight, out of mind approach to their duties to keep from getting underfoot, whereas the little bugger at Potter's side was actually giggling with glee, skipping with every other step, a look on his face that implied he'd somehow managed to attain nirvana through happiness.

Standing tall at Herwald's side, unseen by the rest of the mortal students, was another figure, a knight in armour of red and Silver, features hidden behind a horned helmet, one armoured hand resting on the pommel of the sword sheathed at it's hip as it kept pace with the Boy Who Lived, passing unnoticed through the crowd, who did not even shiver in the knight's passing, for unlike a ghost it left no trail of cold in his wake.

Had any of the ghosts been in the halls they may have reacted to the sight of this unusual specter, some favourably, others not so much. However, with the announcement of a feast, all the House ghosts had already made their way to the Great Hall to attend the celebrations, while the less Sociable of their peers opted to stay behind, not wanting to deal with the chattering, excited students as the festivities got underway.

Herwald honestly could have cared less about the festivities, though he made a note to make this quick so as to meet up with his friends before his presence was missed, as quite frankly the prospect of a good meal followed by a warm bed was looking rather good at that moment. But before he could relax, before he could finally lower his guard and simply be another faceless student in the crowd, there was something that needed to be done, an explanation to be had, and if need be, a wrong that needed righted before he could begin to move on with his life.

As such, while the rest of the castle were making their way down towards the feast, which was already in full-swing judging by the sounds echoing through the halls, Herwald instead marched his way up the flight of stairs that would take him past the library and up towards the corridor where Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was located. Not even pausing to regard the silvery messages Riddle had forced Ginny to paint on the wall, the Einzbern instead stepped forward and opened the door to the Girl's bathroom, where Moaning Myrtle sat staring at the open entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, almost expectantly.

"Guten Abend, Frau Myrtle." He greeted calmly, yet Dobby could not help the urge to jump at the chill that washed over him, as it seemed the room had suddenly got several degrees colder at the sound of his new master's voice.

Myrtle had surely not been expecting visitors, understandable really, considering her disposition, and had clearly been so intent in her silent vigil outside the opening she clearly hadn't heard them coming in, though to be fair Herwald could be quite silent if he didn't want anyone to know he was coming, assassin's training and all.

As such, at the sound of the teen's voice, the not-so-friendly ghost jumped, her head actually passing through the ceiling of the bathroom, before recovering her wits and peering down at him from the ceiling. "You're alive." She goggled; the teenage ghost staring blankly at Herwald, the look on her face not unlike the one most people would get from seeing HER, though with perhaps a tad more disappointment.

"Indeed I am, despite the best interests of a maniacal autobiography and his over-sized pet." Herwald opined, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared coldly up at the ghost, watching as she levitated down out of the ceiling to perch over her usual stall "You sound disappointed."

"Oh, well…" Myrtle stammered, the ghost blushing silver as she glanced around the bathroom, clearly put on the spot "I'd just been thinking… if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet."

"I see…" Herwald noted, quirking a brow at the girl, a decidedly unamused look in his emerald eyes as Dobby gripped his arms, the elf actually shivering from the sudden drop in temperature "Frau Myrtle, do you remember what I asked of you when I went down that tunnel?"

Myrtle blinked, clearly thrown by the statement, her gaze passing between Saber of Red and Dobby, wondering what on earth THEY were doing here, though she soon looked away from the Servant's penetrating gaze.

"I do believe I asked you to alert a member of staff, preferably Potions Master Snape, as to the location of the chamber." Herwald intoned, drawing the ghosts attention back to himself, his frozen emerald eyes holding her own gray pair in place "Not only that, I believe I expressly told you to tell them I'd gone ahead to rescue Frau Weasley, you remember Frau Weasley, don't you? First year? Gryffindor? Red hair?"

"That little redheaded who threw her diary at my head?" Myrtle wondered, a frown marring her features as she began to piece the memories together "What about her?"

"She's safe now, no thanks to you." Herwald replied with a side order of ice, Saber of Red's eyes narrowing further as he gripped his sword, as if to restrain himself, "Though things might not have escalated to that length if you'd done as I asked."

"Why should I have?" Myrtle countered, her tone defiant as she scowled at the Slytherin Second Year "No-one cared much when I went missing." She waved a hand dismissively "Oh they raised a fuss when I was found, sure, but before that they simply acted as if I wasn't there." She crossed her arms and snorted "No-one ever cared much about me when I was alive, why should I care any different now that I'm dead?"

Herwald said nothing, he simply stood, matching the ghost of the girl before him glare for glare, an unreadable expression on his face. "No, I suppose you wouldn't care." He admitted at last, his expression never changing as he continued to lock gazes with the spectre of the long dead girl "I suppose I shouldn't have expected much, ghosts tend to leave most of their emotions behind when they pass on, save the ones they felt strongest at their time of death."

"It's a glandular thing…" Mordred offered, the Servant blushing slightly at the look her Master and Myrtle shot him "I don't quite get it myself, but that's the explanation the Reaper gave me when we met on the fields of Camlann."

"Interesting…" Herwald noted, making a mental note to question his new Servant later, as few people ever had a conversation with Death himself save those unfortunate few whose time ran out. As it was, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand, taking one last look at the unrepentant Myrtle before patting Dobby on the head "Dobby, if you would?"

"Yes, Master." Dobby acknowledged, the House Elf, who had been standing behind Herwald up till now, stepping forward, a determined expression on his bony features as he marched up to Myrtle, who eyed him with the typical dismissal Herwald had come to expect of British Magi, not even reacting when he raised one long, bony finger and pointed at her, though she soon changed her tune when she was suddenly flung out of her stall, the ghost letting out a shrill yelp of surprise, clearly not expecting the sudden flight, only to round on the elf, anger in her eyes.

"How dare you-!" the ghost began, her cheeks flushed a bright gray in anger as she levitated out of the stall, the fixtures beginning to rattle ominously around them, only to be cut off once again as Dobby's finger came up once more, the House Elf's bony, underfed features unnaturally cold as he waved the suddenly intimidating digit from side to side, sending the startled ghost bouncing off the walls of the bathroom like a racquet ball.

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><p>"Quite the violent little fellow isn't he?" Herwald noted offhandedly, Master and Servant looking on in morbid fascination as Dobby gave the ghost a swirly of all things, Myrtle struggling against the bonds despite the fact she didn't have to breathe.<p>

"House Elves are as loyal as they are inherently magical." Mordred revealed, the ghost turned Servant's gaze neutral as she watched the distressed specter get her comeuppance for her negligence "They will suffer no insult or threat to their master's person or property, a trait many of my Lord Father's less scrupulous Knights learned the hard way."

"I can imagine." Herwald nodded, maintaining his mask of detached indifference as he continued to watch Dobby mete out the ghost's punishment, the House Elf promptly finishing off his one-sided thrashing of Myrtle by sharply pointing to the far wall, sending the ghost slamming into it with an audible crack that would've surely alerted anyone in the halls had they not already gone down to the feast.

"This…this can't be!" Myrtle exclaimed, the ghost looking quite confused as she struggled against whatever was holding her in place, only to find herself incapable of moving, let alone escape through the wall "You can't do this! Magic has no effect on ghosts!"

"You clearly didn't get far in your magical studies then, Frau Myrtle." Herwald countered, the Einzbern speaking to her for the first time since Dobby began his punishment, his features decidedly calm as he stood amidst the ruins of her domain "Either that or you weren't much of a student. Either way, had you delved deeper, you would have learned that while an ordinary magus may prove incapable of harming a ghost, permanently anyways, there exist creatures in this world that are inherently more powerful, such as the Basilisk that killed you, or Dobby here."

"Master is too kind." Dobby offered, smiling brightly at the adopted Einzbern before turning his attention back to Myrtle, all manner of good-will gone as he glared up at the ghost that had endangered his new master "You is bad ghost." He intoned, the anger in his voice overriding the fact it sounded like an squeaky toy being chewed "You tried to hurt Dobby's Master." He clenched his fist, and Myrtle's eyes bugged as she scrabbled at her throat despite the fact she didn't need to breathe "Dobby wishes he could punish you better, as Master says, Ghosts is not immune to Dobby's Magic."

He held his fist like that for a few seconds, watching the ghost contort on the floor of the bathroom with anger in his eyes as the Ghost shifted from Silver to a faint grey, only to unclench his fist, looking on impassively as Myrtle lay on the floor, the ghost slowly regaining her normal coloration. "Dobby wishes he could do more," the house elf admitted, glaring at the ghost, suddenly more intimidating than he had any right to be dressed as he was "But Dobby's master is merciful, is much kinder than old master, he says Dobby only has to make you go away, so Dobby will do just that."

"Go away?" Myrtle exclaimed, looking at the elf in confusion, and a hint of fear, which was quite understandable if you thought about it. Many people assumed that in death, your suffering would end, and in a sense, this was true for ghosts, as there was very little that could harm them. It must've been quite a shock to suddenly feel pain and fear after over fifty years of nigh-immunity.

"You see Frau Myrtle, I found more than just a Basilisk in that tunnel." Herwald explained, hands clasped behind his back as he glared down at the spirit "The Chamber of Secrets was not merely some cupboard in which Salazar Slytherin decided to hide his pet, it is, in fact, the Founder's Workshop." He curled his lip at the ghost's look of confusion at the term "I see that my second guess as to your education proved valid. No matter, the fact remains that, with such a wealth of information made available to me, I can hardly have just ANYONE have access to it, can I? Which is why, I'm afraid, you're going to have to leave."

"Leave?" Myrtle exclaimed, looking horrified at the prospect, much like a high-spending, low-paid employee who's just been told they've been made redundant with just one payment left on their mortgage "But…I can't LEAVE! Hogwarts is my HOME!"

"It WAS your home," Herwald countered, his tone unmoved "and had you done as I asked and simply gone for help, I'd have been quite happy to let you remain as a 'watchman' of sorts, keeping an eye on the entrance whilst driving off anyone who got too close." He scowled at the ghost "However, your blatant, selfish disregard for my safety, and that of Frau Weasley, has left me with no other choice."

"But where am I supposed to go?" Myrtle wailed, and for the first time she actually looked scared, like the sad little schoolgirl who'd come to hide in the bathroom fifty years prior "I've nowhere else to go!"

"You could always pass on." Herwald opined, his tone disinterested as he waved a dismissive hand "By all rights you should have years ago when your tormentor passed away, Olive Hornby wasn't it?"

Myrtle gaped at him in shock, clearly not expecting the youth to have remembered her story, most people tended to block her out after all.

"She WAS the reason you stayed behind wasn't it?" Herwald reminded her "You said it yourself, you'd never let her live it down, you'd make her sorry for making fun of your glasses…" he snorted dismissively "Such a petty reason, it's not like Frau Hornby KNEW there was a Basilisk in the toilet." He shrugged dismissively "Then again, I suppose things like pettiness and misplaced anger hold little meaning to the deceased."

"Don't you act like you know about me!" Myrtle snapped back, only Dobby's magic keeping her from lashing out at the teen "You don't have any idea what that witch put me through!"

"You're right, I don't." Herwald agreed, his eyes cold as he matched the ghost glare for glare, actually causing her to look away first "Nor do I particularly CARE. You have long outstayed your welcome, Frau Myrtle, you WON'T be missed. Dobby?"

"As you wish, Master." The Elf acknowledged, his eyes narrowing, Myrtle's own widening as they seemed to glow with some internal light, the ghost struggling to back away as the elf pointed one long, spindly finger at her like it was a wand or firearm "Begone!"

And with an audible crack and a wail of despair, Moaning Myrtle vanished from the Girl's bathroom, never to be seen within the walls of Hogwarts again.

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><p>"Ruhe in Frieden…" Herwald muttered, crossing himself to be safe before turning his attention to Dobby, who was sighing in relief "Well done Dobby, you're sure she can't come back?"<p>

"Dobby is certain, Master." The elf insisted, nodding his head reassuringly, causing his ears to flap comically "She is not the first Ghost Dobby is having to banish, Malfoy Manor is always attracting them."

"Can't imagine why…" Herwald muttered wryly, shaking his head in bemusement, making a mental note to try and get Draco out of there for the summer, or at the very least visit him if he had the time, before turning his attention to the still open entrance to the catacombs "Now then, what to do, what to do…?"

Of course, Herwald had no intentions of simply sealing the chamber up and calling it a day. There was a wealth of magical and historical information waiting for him down there, secrets which had remained hidden for generations, since before the founding of the Clock Tower even, only a FOOL would leave such a treasure horde behind.

The only problem was that Dumbledore was no fool, and Herwald had no doubt the old twinkler was even now making plans to cordon off the area and plunder the secrets of Salazar for the 'Greater Good', a concept that quite frankly turned the Einzbern's stomach.

'I'm the one who found the damned thing,' he muttered in a rare moment of childish petulance, he was, after all, only human 'I'M the one who risked his neck fighting the blasted serpent and Riddle's memory. This Chamber is mine by right of conquest; I'd sooner burn it to the ground before I let anyone else learn its secrets.'

"If I may; Master?" Mordred spoke up, Herwald turning to look at his Servant, who was standing dutifully to the side "I may not be a magus, but if memory serves, you used the Ring of Kay to open the door, did you not?"

"I did." Herwald admitted, quirking a brow at the question "Truth be told I could have simply ordered it to open in Parseltongue, but I was in a hurry and I'm afraid I haven't had time to practice."

"You were concerned for Miss Weasley's safety, it is only natural you would seek a more expeditious route." Mordred assured the youth, holding up an armoured finger as she spoke "But that is not the main issue, did you reveal to Headmaster Dumbledore that you used the Ring to open the Chamber?"

"Of course not." Herwald countered, shuddering at the very idea of doing something so inherently stupid or amateurish as to give away one of his secrets to the twinkle-eyed old man "I hardly want him confiscating the ring."

"Then the answer is simplicity in and of itself." Mordred opined, her tone calm, though even with the enchantments concealing her true voice, Herwald could tell the Servant was amused "Should he ask you to open the chamber again, all you need do is speak in Parseltongue, but NOT the words to open the portal."

Herwald blinked, looking thunderstruck by the revelation, only to laugh aloud, shaking his head in amazement even as he eyed his new Servant in approval. Indeed, Dumbledore could certainly order him to open the chamber, as Headmaster he had the right to go wherever he damn well pleased within the walls of Hogwarts using any means necessary to do so. However, only a Parseltongue could open the chamber, and since Herwald was the only known person to receive Salazar's gift, albeit in an unexpected manner, the old twinkler would have no way to prove the Einzbern wasn't actually insulting him in snake-tongue instead of opening the tunnel.

'Hermione was right; most Magi don't have the logic to fill a thimble.' He muttered, releasing a self-mocking chuckle as he shook his head "There's still the matter of my gaining access, though. Dumbledore is sharper than he looks, he'll have wards placed all over this floor by the end of the day, ruse or no ruse."

"There's always the Forest entrance." Mordred reminded him, though even she looked troubled "It will take some time for them to retrieve the Half-Giant Groundskeeper, it should be a simple matter to hide the entrance using magic."

"Dobby can do it, Master." the Elf spoke up, Herwald and Mordred turning to face the elf, surprised to find he'd been following their conversation this whole time, the little fellow looking embarassed now that he'd caught their attention "Dobby is sorry for eavesdropping, Master, has been aware of Sir Knight's presence for some time now but didn't want to speak up."

"That's quite alright Dobby." Herwald assured the elf, making a mental note to figure out just what were the limits of his species' abilities, on top of several other things he planned to do "You say you can hide the entrance?"

"But of course!" Dobby insisted, nodding his head energetically, causing his ears to flap like bat-wings "Give the word Master, and Dobby will hide the entrance so no-one is finding it!"

"Very well, but leave me a clue of some sort." Herwald ordered, smiling wryly at the elf due to past experiences "It won't do me any good if I can't find the damn entrance, will it?"

"Of course, Master!" Dobby agreed, the little elf saluting his master once more, before vanishing with a crack, no doubt already at the entrance, which Herwald had little doubt would be so well hidden not even Hagrid, who knew the grounds like the beard on his face, would be able to find it.

"Even after all these years it STILL unnerves me how easily they can do that…" Mordred muttered, the Servant eyeing the spot Dobby had previously occupied with a hint of trepidation and discomfort "Even Merlin rarely used his Magics to teleport, and even then it was never as smoothly or as quick."

"As you said, House Elves are Creatures of Magic." Herwald pointed out, smirking at the Spectral Knight even as she shook her head. "In a way they're not unlike my family's homunculi, they're more akin to living magic circuits than Magi."

"Be that as it may, it was still fortuitous that you were able to obtain his services." Mordred opined, nodding her head to her Master in acknowledgement "He will make a valuable ally."

"I certainly wouldn't want him as an enemy…" Herwald opined, wincing slightly as he recalled the incident with the rogue Bludger, idly rubbing his arm at the memory of Lockhart's removal of his bones, "Gott im Himmel now there's an opponent I'd hate to have to face."

"Indubitably…" Mordred muttered, the two of them sharing a morbid chuckle before Herwald turned his attention to the hole in the wall which led to the chamber, the Adopted Einzbern taking a breath to steady himself, before letting out a stream of hisses, watching in relief as the portal to the Chamber slowly closed over, revealing the faulty sink from before.

"Glad that's over with…" he muttered, dusting off his hands before turning on his heel and making his way towards the bathroom door "Now then, I do believe I've kept my friends waiting long enough, poor Draco must be having a fit by now."

He chuckled at the image, already imagining the onslaught of questions that were likely to be fired at him the moment he stepped into the Hall, only to pause as he gripped the door handle, turning to glance at Mordred, who was still standing where he'd left her "Coming?"

"Many thanks, Master, but I believe it would be best if I waited for you in your room." the Servant insisted, her tone grateful yet firm "After all, if this plan is to work, it would behoove us to avoid drawing the attention of the Hogwarts ghosts."

"True…" Herwald noted, nodding his head to the Servant before stepping out into the hall, the two of them making their separate ways down to the lower levels, leaving behind Myrtle's bathroom exactly as they'd left it, save for the fact that, for the first time since her death fifty years ago, Myrtles moans no longer echoed throughout the corridor.

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><p>Only the epilogue to go. Then the reboot will commence.<p>

Things that may change: Herwald's Alchemy, His role in the 5th War, the timeline of events at Hogwarts, Herwald's friendships and perhaps even his placement/house.

Flamel/Hohenheim and Perenelle/Trisha will remain, and Sirius/Taiga is most certainly gonna happen.


End file.
